LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

Gl  FT    OF 

•.... 
Class 


JOHN  WARD  STIMSON 


POEMS 

BY 

JOHN   WARD  STIMSON 

(Author  of  "The  Gate  Beautiful") 


®F  THL 


UNIVERSITY 

OF 


PUBLISHED  BY 

ARIEL  PRESS,  WESTWOOD,  MASS. 

1909 


p$ 


t 


O  T 


I'M     . 

7  'HKS  K    \VA  i\T)  ERIM  C 


that  have  floated  through  the  strings  of 
different  literary  Instruments,  during  an 
otherwise  busy  professional  life,  are  gath 
ered  by  request,  merely  to  recall  to  a  few 
intimate  friends  some  varied  human  hopes, 
experiences,  trials,  sentiments  and  affec 
tions,  still  lingering  about  a  maturing 
horptr  <ut*1  his  harp.  .1.  w.  s. 


[COPYRIGHTED.  SKCOND  KDITIOX.J 


Price  $1,  obtainable  from  the  author, 
Redding  Centre,  Conn. 


180983 


I   N    D    K    X 


Dedication  7 

Invocation  8 

My  Southern  Nightingale  9 

Southern  Nightingales  9 

The  Spirit's  Hour  10 

Christ-Tide                                -  11 

His  Time  11 

Damascus  12 

Windows  12 

The  Magi  13 

Stronger  than  Death  14 

Arma  Vlvumque  14 

Feste-Burg  15 

Success                                                      .  15 

Saint  Valentine  16 

Gay  or  Grave         -  1G 

Constancy  17 

Spiritual  Comradeship  17 

The  Victor  18 

Garlands  20 

Precaution              -  20 

Winter  Stars           -  21 

The  Full  Moon  and  the  Bird  22 

Sparkles  23 

The  Diamond         -  23 

Commanded  24 

Boanerges  25 

Freedom                 •  2fi 

The  Victory  of  Trenton  27 

John  Brown's  Grave  28 

A  Vision                  -  28 

Elephantis  29 

Self  Reliance  30 

Hespera  30 

To  Calaphao  31 

Two  Ways  32 

Stephen  Stoned  33 

The  Living  Church  34 

II  Penseroso  35 

Magdalen  35 

Buonarotti's  Madonna  and  Child  36 

Japanese  Lilies                                        -  37 

The  Lily  and  the  Rose  38 

Stabat  Mater  39 

Gavin  and  Babbie  40 

Abelard  and  Eloise                                 -  41 

Buddha  Bell  42 

To  a  Japanese  Nocturne       -                 -  42 

Fire  File*  43 


IHBCJC 

Midsummer's  Evening  44 

Stars  of  Midsummer  45 

Rest        -  4ft 

Songe  in  the  Niglit  46 

Orpheus  46 

Slumbers  47 

Peace  48 

Great  Hearted  49 

Voices  50 

Spring  Bugles  52 

Spring  Snow  52 

March  Breezes       •  53 

Solomon's  Song     -  54 

Easter— Resurgit  58 

Rainbow  Rays        -  59 

Esperanza  59 

My  Artist  Palette  60 

All  Three                                                  .  61 

Whip-po'-wlll         -                                  -  (1-2 

Robin  Red  63 

Beauty  or  Love  04 

Maidenhood  64 

The  Covering  of  Dream*       -  65 

Love.s  Wedding  Ring  66 

Little  Love  Criea  66 

Love's  Waiting  67 

Her  Challenge  68 

All  in  a  Look  69 

The  Woodland  Wound  70 

Sweet  Briar  1 

Her  Secret  2 

Evolving  "3 

Our  Wedding  Hour  4 

Love's  Passion                       "  4 

Love's  Canticle  6 

The  True  Wife  7 

Pregnancy  78 

Harvest  Moon  79 

One  Instant  80 

Aucassln  and  Nicolette  81 

Memory  82 

L'Aille  Volante  82 

The  Last  Swan  84 

Longing  and  Flight  84 

Eagles  85 

Dove  Wings  86 

The  Visitor  87 

Dante  and  Beatrice  8S 

II  Paradiso  88 

Head  or  Heart?  8« 

Homeward  9() 

My  Home  90 

Segments  01 


I  N  D  K  X 

To  Daiite  Gabriel  Boatetti  92 

Thought  and  Action  9H 

Sweet  Wild  Rose  94 

One  White  Rose  94 

Passion  Flower  95 

God's  Tokens         -  96 

Ministering  Angels  97 

Martha's  Spirit  98 

To  Martha  in  Heaven  99 

The  Passing  Years  100 

My  Oversoul           -  101 

Consolation  -                                102 

Human  Need          -  103 

Sheaves  104 

November  105 

Affliction  106 

Ixion      -  107 

Lived  and  Loved  108 

The  Latter  Rain  -                                 109 

The  Flower  that  Follows  the  Storm      -  110 

Immortal  Change  111 

Those  Forms  Celestial  112 

Whispering  Mulberry  Tries  114 

Follow  Thou  Me  115 

The  Bird  and  the  Grave  116 

To  Edith  117 

The  Swan's  Kiss  118 

Aladdin  119 

The  Divine  Mirage  120 

Oases  -               121 

The  Sphinx  and  the  Curtain  of  Night  122 

The  Vale-of-Baca  123 

In  Pharaoh's  Court  124 

The  Byway  Search  126 

Faint  Heart  128 

Shepherd,  Poet,  King  129 

Th«  Spring  by  the  Gate  130 

Galilee  131 

Still  Waters  132 

The  Angel  of  Healing  133 

The  Gates  of  Life  134 

Frankincense         -  135 

A  Country  Funeral  136 

Moonlight  on  Matlllja  Mountain  137 

Purging  the  Dross  138 

Whirling  Wheels  139 

Chandellee  du  St.  Esprit  -                 .               140 

Old  Mission  Belfry  141 

The  Buried  Bell  -               142 

Redlvivlt  143 

The  Giant  Sequoias  144 

Pacific  Ocean         -  145 

Song  of  the  Silver  Sea  146 

Columbus  -                                 147 


I  VBB1 

The  Bronco-Kuster  148 

The  Coyote  149 

The  Stormy  Petrel  151 

Port  Arthur           -  152 

Above  the  Forest  Fire  153 

Hamaguchi  154 

The  New  Day       -  156 

Song  of  the  Rain  Drops  -                                   156 

Drop  by  Drop       -  -                 158 

To  a  Pupil  in  Art  159 

Beauty  for  Ashes  160 

The  Poet's  Mind  161 

The  Bridegroom  Cometh  162 

The  Dawn  of  the  New  Year  163 

Vita  Nouva  164 

Easter  Choristers  165 

Primavera  166 

School  Bells          -  -                                   167 

The  Flight  of  the  Children  168 

Just  from  Heaven  -                                    169 

To  a  Child  who  Loved  Birds  170 

Harbingers  of  Spring  171 

California  Mocking  Birds  .                 178 

Meadow  Larks  174 

The  Song  Sparrow  -                 175 

The  Blackbird  -                 176 

The  Snow  Bird  177 

Song  of  the  Linnets  178 

Humming  Bird  179 

The  Emerald  Lizard  18Q 

Emerald  Gauze  Fly  181 

Bright  Diamond  -                                   182 

Sapphire  Stone  183 

The  Ruby  184 

Topaz  185 

The  Opal  186 

The  Emerald        -  .                 187 

The  Day  of  Jewels  188 

Stars  189 

Watch  Night         -  190 

February  Thaws  191 

Indian  Summer  193 

Autumn's  Sighing  194 

Twilight  Psalm  196 

The  White  Rose  and  the  Red  198 

The  Highest  Call  200 

Experience  and  Culture  200 

The  Road  to  the  Evening  Star  201 

The  Singer  202 

Au  Rpvoir              -  202 


DEDICATED  TO 

/fcartba*Gabric  I  le 

(IN    HBAVBN) 


I  LOVED  her  when  her  cheek  was  fair  in  May, 
And  when  her  heart  was  budded  to  its  prime ; 
I  loved  her  in  that  tender  elder  day. 
When  softened  was  her  hair  with  silver  rime. 

I  loved  her  when  Spring  blossoms  burst  to  bloom, 
And  when  the  fruit  had  ripened  in  the  sun ; 
I  loved  through  hours  of  joy,  and  hours  of  gloom ; 
And  when  the  precious  sands  of  Earth  had  run. 

I  loved  her  when  she  lay  upon  my  breast 
And  when  she  slept  so  calm  serene  and  still 
Beside  God's  humble  flowerets  —  at  rest  — 
Within  the  circling  bosom  of  the  hill. 

I  love  her  NOW,  exalted,  free,  and  far, 
Within  that  Boundless  Being  of  the  Whole ! 
I  love  her  as  she  sings  from  star  to  star 
Encompassing  my  spirit  —  SOUL  IN  SOUL! 


Invocation 

"y  STRING  no  lyre  to  Pride  or  Power, 

-*•»  To  Strife  or  Fate, 

But  s    ing  my  hymnals  of  an  hour — 

The  meek — not  great ! 

The  morning  madrigals  of  Love  ! 
The  bliss  of  Vision  ! 

The  thrush  song  in  the  throbbing  grove ! 
Earth's  human  Heaven! 

The  sower's  lay  at  break  of  day 

As  forth  he  goes ; 

When  larks  sing  to  pink-lip'd  Spring — 

And  blooms  the  rose  ! 

Under  the  leaves  Earth's  bosom  heaves; 
He  drinks  his  fill ! 

Till  the  full  rose  and  the  harvest  goes — 
And  the  year  is  still ! 


My  Southern  Nightingale 

v-w-'  HEAHD  thy  tender  voice,  sweet  Love, 
•-^     That  called  erstwhile,  across  the  void; 
It  dropped — like  moonlight — from  above 
When  faith  and  hope  were  nigh  destroyed : 
It  came  and  settled  like  a  balm 
Within  my  bosom — still  and  calm. 

The  world  has  proved  too  rude  and  wild, 

Too  brutal  far  for  birds  of  peace ; 
Too  dank  and  bleak  for  Nature's  child, 
And  almost  made  fond  Love  to  cease ! 

But  thy  sweet  notes  awoke  the  air 
And  bade  me  banish  all  despair ! 

The  days  had  grown  too  sad  for  me ! 
I  loved  the  long  nights  deep  and  clear 
When  stars  drooped  down  and  came  so  near ! 
Then  love  sang  low,  and  rich  and  free ! 

— I  know  the  fragrance  of  the  year ! 
—I  keep  thy  voice — in  heart  and  ear ! 

Southern  Nightingales 

OF  all  the  strains  of  music 
They  trill  who  flood  with  song 
The  summer  days  till  evening, 
Or  midnights  rich  and  long, 

There  is  no  bird  so  plaintive, 

Nor  yet  so  wild  and  gay, 
As  Southern  mocking-bird,  so  sweet 
When  moons  are  up— they  say. 

My  heart  knows  well  that  music! 

I've  dreamed  it — O  so  long! 
I  heard  it  in  my  slumbers, 
It  filled  my  soul  with  song  ! 

'Twas  crushed — 'twas  killed  within  me 

By  northern  cage  and  bars ! 
But  still  'tis  in  my  moonlight ! 
— '  Tig  (tinging  in  my  xtars.' 


Th«  Spirit's  Hour 

>«Y  mocking  bird,  full  oft,  in  vesper  twilight  still, 
^*^  Croons  in  a  low  refrain,  to  south  winds  soughing 

by; 

And  tunes  his  glowing  throat  to  echo  back  each  trill 
Of  far  off  fading  notes,  from  warblers  in  the  sky. 
When  every  murmuring  chord  has  sunk  beneath  my 

reach 
He  sits,  alert  there  still,  himself  the  sound  to  teach. 

So  with  that  "Still  Small  Voice"  that  broods  o'er  poet 

soul, 

So  sacred  sweet  and  low — mysteriously  shy ! 
Ye  cannot  catch  its  call,  nor  hear  the  chariot  roll 
When   fanning   seraph  wings   and  thundering  hosts 

goby, 

Except  in  holy  tryst  ye  wait—  nor  deaf  nor  blind— 
Like  weird  jEolian  harp  wooed  by  the  whispering 

wind. 

Then  breathe  the  mystic  spells  that  haunted  Or  lean's 

maid; 
The  trump  that  summoned  Troy ;  the  Sibyl  leaves  for 

Rome! 
Then  drops  the  Manna  Dew ;  then  breaks  the  Magic 

Bread, 

While  thousand  souls  are  fed  that  to  the  master  come ! 
Then  John  on  patmos  hears — then  Paul  by  wayside 

sees 
The  heavenly  Light-of-Life,  while  fainting  to  their 

knees ! 


10 


H 


Christ-Tide 

)OND  friend,  accept  these  Christmas  lines  from  me, 

Borne  on  the  gentle  wings  of  modest  minstrelsy. 
For  Love  is  like  the  ever-verdant  pine 
More  fresh  and  deathless  as  the  days  decline. 
See  how  serene  and  peacefully  it  stands. 
Made  all  the  fairer  by  the  whitening  lands. 

Look  !     Dost  thou  watch  the  winter  solstice  grow ; 
Orion's  diamonds  gleam — the  Pleiad  tapers  glow; 

The  shimmering  moon  mount  through  her  mystic 
skies 

Leading  the  beacon  lights  of  Paradise  ? 

Hush !     Dost  thou  note  how  every  crystal  rill 
Each  pearly  brook,  each  limpid  lake,  lies  still? 

Each  blithesome  bird,  each  flower  in  forest  glade? 

And  over  Earth  her  snowy  mantle  laid ! 

Hark  !    Hear  it  burst— the  chime  of  Christmas  bells ! 
O'er  mistletoe  and  holly  seraphs  breathe  their  spells  ! 
He  comes !  with  love  aglow  and  pity  warm ; 
A  million  cherub  hearts  cling  to  his  holy  arm ! 
'Tis  Love  that  lives  and  reigns  with  Life  Divine ! 
All  hearts  are  one  tonight— so  mine  with  thine  ! 


His  Time 

*-|^  ASKED  the  good  Lord,  frankly, 
-^      To  grant  me  once  a  prayer. 
He  seemed  to  keep  it  from  me— 
I  swooned  in  blank  despair ! 

The  night  lay  dank  about  me, 
The  shades  were  tightly  drawn, 

I  woke — and  cast  them  from  me ! 
The  gift  was  there— by  dawn  ! 

11 


Damascus 

("Not  disobedient  to  the  Heavenly  Vision."  Bible.) 

QACH  soul,  upon  the  path  of  life,  beholds 
A  Revelation ! 

And  the  fair  "Beulah  Land"  unfolds 
To  each  one's  station. 

The  sacred  Spirit  comes,  with  thrilling  voice, 

And  lo — a  Vision ! 
Then  is  the  hour  of  holy  choice — 

Decision ! 

Faint  soul  of  man,  by  mystic  angels  led, 
Obedient  be,  and  ready ! 

So,  safely,  bravely  by  the  Master  led, 
March  steady ! 

Thus  shall  thy  way  of  joy  grow  strong 

In  full  endeavor; 
And  thy  bright  path  through  Heaven  prolong 

— Forever  I 


Windows 

HOROET  not  thou  O  man !  that,  like  the  rose, 
The  lily  also  in  the  garden  grows ; 
The  crocus  springs;  the  cowslip  bursts  to  bloom, 
Wherever  God  appointeth  it  its  room. 

So  many  Windows  are  they,  whence  His  Spirit 

bright 

May  reach  the  earth  and  radiate  His  Light ! 
Thyself  art  one — thy  soul  a  messenger! 
Upon  this  speeding  star — a  passenger! 


1-2 


TK?  Magi 

J^<HE  magi  came  at  Christmas  Tide, 
^-'      Into  the  night,  with  gifts  resplendent ! 
Coursers,  camels,  robes  of  pride, 
Wealth  of  satellites  dependent. 

They  came  with  pomp,  they  came  from  far 
And  followed  fast — the  "Morning"  Star! 

Lo  !  in  a  cradle  made  of  hay 
A  monarch  from  the  heavens  lay. 
Was  it  a  king,  in  glory  dight? 
No  !  'was  a  Child — in  pink  and  white  ! 

It,  too,  had  travelled  alone,  from  far, 

And  came  in  the  arms  of  the  "Evening"  Star! 

Which  of  the  twain  shall  we  worship  most? 
The  star  with  the  train  and  the  splendid  host? 
The  star  of  Triumph,  the  star  of  Power? 
— Or  the  star  that  twinkles  at  twilight  hour, 

The  Love  Star  tender?     Now  watch  and  see: 
It  is  the  Magi  that  bend  the  knee! 

Ah!  splendors  of  wisdom,  pride  and  wealth; 
Glories  of  genius,  knowledge,  health; 
Powers  of  busy  brain  and  feet; 
All  of  the  treasures  of  earth  complete ; 
Spirit  of  Beauty  and  Love !  at  last, 
At  thy  sacred  feet,  all  crowns  are  cast ! 


Stronger  than  Death 


ORIFT  winter  winds !     Drive  chilling  frosts  ! 
The  strength  of  love  is  \rlmt  if  roxfx. 
The  strain  we  bear  for  our  Ideal 

Is  that  which  proves  us  true  and  real ! 

For  Love  is  not  that  fleeting  name 
Feeding  itself  on  Passion's  flame; 

But  that  serene,  celestial  Fire 
In  which  our  baser  selves  expire ! 

It  is  the  pure  unsullied  snow 

That  journieth  where  the  winds  blow. 

It  cometh — whence?     It  goeth — whither? 
Ah  I'tis  a  shaft  from  God's  own  quiver  ! 

Its  wing  is  wide — its  flight  is  long ; 
And  dt-clhl^it  i*  <7.v  Death  Kong! 


Arma  Virumque 

ijiHo  is  the  hero?     Not  the  brave 
vl*      Who  on  the  field  of  glory  sleep; 
Immortal  banners  o'er  them  wave 
And  the  proud  states  their  vigils  keep ! 

Who  is  the  hero?  'Tis  the  slave 
For  whom  the  gentle  angels  weep; 

Who  toiling-  onward  to  the  grave 
Has  but  his  tryst  with  God  to  keep ! 

Who  is  the  hero?     'Tis  the  weak ! 

The  martyrs-,  prophets,  poets,  seers 
Who,  through  the  long  nights  dark  and  bleak, 

WATCH — till  the  Lord-of-Life  appears! 


Fcste-Burg 

("Having  <ioue  nil -stand."     Hlblr.) 

^Km:  long1  brave  battle  is  complete! 
^-'      Our  rugged  veterans  have  swept  the  hill! 
About  are  faint  and  fallen  at  our  feet 
And  the  loud  clarion  halts  us— "Still!" 

The  Truth  has  vanquished  and  the  sullen  tot- 
Has  struck  his  colors  and  surrendered  sword! 

The  terms  God  grants  him,  tho'  we  may  not  know : 
"Be  still  and  patient!"'  is  the  Captain's  word. 

Strong  sunlight  sweeps  the  war  fog  from  the  crest; 

Soft  breezes  fan  each  pained  or  fevered  brow; 
Our  swords  in  scabbard,  and  our  arms  at  rest; 

"Halt!  and  take  respite" — is  the  order  now. 

So  sweet  the  ministries  that  angels  bring, 

And  bright  the  garlands  gathered  at  the  gate! 

Dost  thou  not  hear  the  prophets  and  the  martyrs  sing: 
"They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait"? 

Soldiers  of  Truth  —  thy  mighty  battle  done  — 
Rest  now,  in  patience  on  His  Promised  Word; 

Thy  warfare  ended,  and  thy  victory  won, 
Stand  still  —  and  see  Tlw  Victory  of  God  ! 

Success 

this  great  Truth,  O  Son!  for  aye  take  heed! 
"Success"  is  in  THE  DOIKG  —  not  THE  DEED! 
Do  well  thy  task;  and  give  each  hour's  concern 
Not  to  the  praise — but  to  the  Truth  you  learn? 
Guide  thou  thy  hands  —  not  to  the  lure  of  gold  — 
But  to  the  Power  for  Excellence  they  hold; 
The  Seeds  of  Beauty,  Truth,  and  Good  they  cast ! 
The  Soul's  eternal  Triumphs ! 
Thaw  *hall  last  > 


Saint  Valentin* 

E  deathless  Love  is  not 
That  breeze  that  comes  and  goes, 
Nor  is  it  that  faint  fragrance 
That  fadeth  from  the  rose. 

Nor  is  it  that  still  beauty 

That  haunts  the  pearly  shell; 

Nor  soft  and  trembling  music 
— So  sweet — that  there  doth  dwell. 

Ah  me !     It  is  that  Something 

That  grows  within  a  seed ; 
That  struggles  up  to  Beauty, 

To  Fragrance,  Music,  Deed  ! 

Still  in  those  roots  'tis  living  ! 

'Tis  slumbering  in  the  shade  ! 
It  cannot  pass  nor  perish  ! 

For  not  by  Earth  'twas  made! 

Gay  or  Grave 

*y  ASKED  her:  "In  Love,  is  Life  playful? 
*•*•»      Or  is  it  profound  (as  to  me)? 
—The  foam  with  the  sunlight  of  day,  full? 
Or  deep  like  the  depths  of  the  sea?" 

She  smiled  as  she  answered  me  slowly, 
With  voice  that  was  tender  and  low, 

With  deep  eyes  so  vast  and  so  holy : 

"If  you  feel  it  —1  think  you  will  know." 

Then  I  looked  in  my  heart  and  I  found  it ! 

At  morn  it  was  blithe  like  the  light; 
But  at  evening  when  twilight  surrounds  it 

'Tis  richer  and  deeper  than  night ! 


Constancy 

RE  thou  goest  I  would  go  ! 
With  the  rise  or  fall  of  tide, 
In  the  ebbing  or  the  flow, 
Where  thou  bidest  I'd  abide  ! 

Nothing  other  would  I  know, 

Over  earth  or  under  sea ; 
Nothing  that  the  world  can  show 

Would  I  share  apart  from  thee  ! 

On  thy  breast  my  heart  would  lean ; 

In  thine  arms — beside  thy  cheek  ! 
Nothing  half  so  dear  hath  been, 

Bravely  true  and  tender  meek  ! 

Oh,  Beloved,  I  am  thine, 

Though  the  stars  fall  from  their  skies ! 
All  the  constellations  shine 

In  the  vortex  of  thine  eyes ! 

When  the  angel  choirs  ring 

And  the  trump  of  God  shall  call, 

To  thy  heaven  my  spirit  bring  ! 
Be  my  Eden — all  in  all ! 

Spiritual  Comradeship 

arr  friend,  so  fair,  serene  and  pure, 
turn  to  thee  as  toward  my  compass  sure, 
Not  with  the  flickering  flame  of  vain  desire 
But  for  the  soul's  deep  fountains  to  inspire  ! 
I  dare  not  covet — As  with  evening  star 
I  watch,  I  wonder,  and  I  worship — from  afarj 


«  VK* 


or 


I^ELL  me  what  is  brave  and  strong 
**s  In  Life's  battle  task  so  long  ! 

Is  it  hidden  deep  in  history? 

May  the  seer  discern  its  mystery? 

It  is  not  the  lion  tawny, 

Nor  cold  glinting  Croesus  money  ! 

Croesus  and  his  hoard  have  perished ; 

All  he  grasped  and  saved  and  cherished ; 
And  the  lion  in  the  wild, 
Slaughtered  fell  by  dart  of  child ! 

I  will  tell  you  what  is  strong : 

He  that  watcheth  all  night  long 

By  the  bed  of  loved  and  lost; 

Counteth  all  that  love  hath  cost — 

As  the  death  damp  settles  o'er  it, 

And  the  heart  hath  broke  before  it, 
And  the  pale  lips  pant  and  quiver 
By  the  dark  bank  of  Death's  river  ! 

Shall  I  tell  you  what  is  brave? 
'Tis  to  stand  beside  the  grave 
Of  a  Hope  forever  thwarted' 
Of  a  Joy  forever  slaughtered ; 
But  to  stand  and  battle  on 
'Till  the  victory  is  won  ! 

Go  and  find  me  now  a  monster 
From  the  jungle  or  the  mountain ; 
I  will  find  you  some  sweet  songster, 
And  the  laugh  of  gurgling  fountain ! 
But  the  monster's  name  shall  perish, 
And  his  bones  shall  deck  the  mountain ; 

Yet  the  Songster — God  shall  cherish ! 

Ant  the  Earth  shall  guard  the  Fountain  ! 


Bring  me  now  a  mighty  warrior 
Who  hath  slaughtered  many  a  foeman ; 
Time  shall  chain  him  in  its  barrier, 
And  the  stars  shall  blight  his  omen! 
They  shall  chase  him  in  their  courses — 
Sizera  fled,  with  all  his  horses; 
And  Beltshazzar  at  the  feast 
Saw  his  power  and  pride  had  ceased  ! 

Do  you  think  the  Christ  was  weak 
When  he  stood  so  wan  and  meek 
Struck  by  blow  of  brutal  soldier? 
Tell  me,  pray,  which  man  was  bolder, 
He  who  struck — or  he  who  stood 
For  the  Victory  of  the  Good? 

Do  you  think  that  Love  is  best 

Slumbering  on  its  idol's  breast 

When  the  night  lamp  glinteth  low 

And  the  heartbeat  pulseth  so? 

When  the  curtain's  softly  drawn 
'Till  the  purling  of  the  dawn? 

No  !     That  Love  is  deeper,  stronger, 
That  must  ever  onward  wander ; 
Knowing  well  its  wealth  of  rapture 
Is  too  choice  for  time  to  capture  ! 
It  is  tender — it  is  meek, 
And  its  voice  too  low  to  speak — 
But  it  scaleth  Heaven's  wall 
At  the  Trump-of-Gabriel's  call ! 

There,  within  celestial  chalice, 
Far  from  sorrow,  pain  or  malice, 
Free  from  worldly  blight  or  stain, 
Thou  shalt  find  such  Love  again ; 
All  that  wealth  of  Passion  tender 
Robed  in  angel  forms  so  slender ; 

— Where  the  seraph  choirs  are  pure, 
And  the  Peace-of-God  is  sure! 


Garlands 

("Decoration  Day") 

I^<HE  gathered  garlands  deck  the  soil 
^—>'  Which  mark  the  hero's  strife  and  toil. 
From  Marathon  to  Waterloo 
There's  ever  some  brave  deed  to  do! 

Be  it  the  mother,  at  the  birth, 
Bringing  some  new  soul  down  to  earth; 
Or  weary  father,  at  the  plow, 
WThile  anxious  furrows  sear  his  brow; 

Some  brother,  plunging  in  to  save 
Some  sister  from  a  watery  grave; 
Some  sister  sewing  long  and  late 
To  help  some  brother  to  grow  great ! 

How  shall  we  measure  "hero"  blood 
Wrhich  bears  the  brunt  for  human  good? 
There  is  no  limit,  standard,  bourne 
To  the  brave  lives  for  whom  we  mourn! 


Save  that  one  limit  —  "what  we  can!" 
Save  that  one  standard  —  "perfect  man!'' 
The  hero  springs  at  Heaven's  call  — 
He  does  Utmost—  that  is  "All  /" 

Precaution 


"Tr"  MET  a  lady  fair,  one  springtime  day, 
-V  I  looked  —  she  said:  "You'd  better  look  away!' 
I  looked  again  —  with  eyes  too  'tranced  to  part; 
She  smiled  —  serene  —  then  gently  broke  my  heart! 


Winter  Stars 

is  the  frosty  night 
When,  clear  and  strong  and  bright, 
There  bursts  the  Christ  Tide  strain 
Above  the  year's  dull  pain, 
And  tells  of  Love 
Far,  far  above 
The  sobbing  rain! 

I  wander,  lone  and  still, 
Into  the  evening  chill, 
Upon  the  mountain  side; 
And  watch  this  Christmas  tide 

Descend  again 

To  suffering  men 
That  here  abide. 

Enwrapt  in  sad  surprise 
I  glance,  with  glistening  eyes! 
The  stars  seem  low  and  near, 
Brightening  with  influence  clear; 

Streaming — so  pure — 

So  strong  and  sure — 
As  though  to  chide  my  fear! 

They  know  my  heart's  lone  cry 
Lest  with  Love's  wounds  I  die! 
Spirits  of  God  they  seem 
Parting  the  night's  blue  dream 
With  candelabra  rays 
Heralding  heavenly  days 
Through  golden  gates  that  stream! 

O,  Life  Divine,  complete! 
Hasten  with  eager  feet, 
My  soul  to  heal! 
See— 'neath  Thy  stars  I  kneel! 

My  battle  won, — 

My  Passion  crown! 
My  Victory  seal! 

81 


TKc  Full  Moon  and  the  Bird 

^-ifpox  my  evening  porch  when  south  winds  sigh  and 
^         fan, 

'Mid  honeysuckle  vines,  I  watch  the  full  moon  rise; 
Fair  Nature's  great  gold  heart — whose  veins  bright 

liquid  ran 
With  love  and   life  aflame,  when  first  she  spanned 

the  skies! 
Ah  me — what  molten  tide,  with  Passion's  bliss 

aglow, 
That   swims   and    sways    and    throbs  in  Love's 

deep  undertow! 

My  heart  toward  her  doth  melt,  whose  fingers  twine 

my  hand 

With  quiet  pressures  kind — yet  need  we  never  speak ! 
Forth  from  my  latticed  shade,  our  chorister  so  grand 
— Our  mockingbird — doth  pour,  pure  from  his  bub- 
ling  beak, 

A  strain  so  rich  and  free — so  ecstasy  inspired — 
Each  .heart  has  told  its  tale,  and  heard  what  it 
desired ! 

Full  well  the  nightfays   know,  with  woodlore  wise 

and  wild, 

The  secret  these  two  tell- the  Full  moon  and  the  Bird! 
The  moon's  my  own  full  heart,  by  Love's  sweet  ways 

beguiled. 
The  "Bird" — ah  that's  my  Bride  —  whose  Song  of 

Life  I  heard! 

Soft,  low  and  deep,  indeed!  then  bursting  light 

with  joys 
Bright,  tripping,  rippling,  rich  —  her  witchery 

employs! 


Sparkles 

fi^Y  Love  and  I  are  "sparking" 
^*^      Amid  the  garden  flowers, 
To  happy  mischiefs  harking  — 
So  gay  the  sunlit  hours! 

O  Life,  that  made  the  zephyrs 
So  wanton  and  so  sweet, 

The  ewe  lambs  and  the  heifers 
So  light  of  playful  feet : 

The  birds  so  full  of  love  song, 

The  butterflies  of  glow ; 
The  roses  blush,  the  day  long, 

With  Passion  —  Thou  dost  know  ! 

Ah  !  Maker  of  Life's  longings, 
Hast  Thou  a  playful  Heart? 

And  dost  Thou  joy  in  joining 
Two  lovers  long  apart? 


The  Diamond 

^HEY  tell  me  of  a  diamond 
^-S      They  found  in  dust  and  sand 
Its  luster  ever  brilliant, 
Its  glories  ever  grand! 
It  was  the  light  of  Beauty 

—  Between  the  atoms  frail! 
It  was  the  Star  of  Duty 

—  Whose  splendors  never  pale! 
It  was  the  Flame  of  Goodness 

—  Whose  grace  filled  all  the  room! 
It  was  the  Torch  of  Genius 

—  That  banished  all  the  gloom! 

•23 


Commanded 

rwas  the  breach  of  battle — and  the  cry, 
Rose  like  a  wail  of  agony:  "They  fly  !" 
The  first  battallion— over  the  right— 
My  bravest  men  ! — All  night 
They've  held,  alone,  that  hill ! 
Great  God  !  but  for  one  hour  still 
'Till  daylight  come,  and  aid  ! 

Hark  !  there,  I  hear  the  drum  !— afraid ? 
What,  every  one  ? — to  go 
Across  the  valley,  in  the  teeth  of  that  fierce  foe 

—and  tell? 

Oh,  some  one  must,  though  it  be  through  the 
mouth  of  hell ! 

Here  !  drummer  boy  !  you're  fleet; 
Lighter  than  stags  your  feet; 
Drop  drum  and  all ! 
Haste  to  that  wall ! 
And  cry 

To  the  brave  men  on  high  : 
"Help  is  at  hand, 
Only  stand!" 


Fleet  as  a  deer — fast  he  bounds  ! 
Shot  at  and  pierced  through  with  wounds; 
Blood  stained  his  fair  boyish  hair; 
Fallen  !  twice  !  thrice  !  but  he's  there, 
And  they  hold  with  a  cheer  ! 

Hard  pressed,  worn  down,  but  grim 
With  the  bright  news  from  him ! 

Arid  when  our  fresh  troops  sweep 
Over  the  foe — up  the  steep — 

And  the  great  fight  was  won ; 

When  all  was  told  and  done ; 

24 


There  on  the  blood  stained  grass, 
In  a  sleep  that  shall  never  pass. 
Lay  our  boy — lay  our  pride  ! 
And  our  tears  though  we  hide, 
Still  I  can  see,  now, 
How  the  troops  kissed  his  brow, 
As  the  colonel's  own  voice  said  the  prayer 
Which  had  cried  that  "command"  of  despair  ! 


As  we  laid  the  frail  corpse  to  its  rest, 
Taking  tokens  for  those  he  loved  best, 

"Mother's  Bible"  we  found  on  his  breast ! 

Then  the  sods  fell — and  choked  was  our  breath ; 

And  we  wrote  over: — "FAITHFUL  TILL  DEATH!" 

Boanerges 

'I  fuibwered  thot?  in  the  secret  place  of  thunder." — Bible.) 

^<HE  forces  of  God's  Word 
^  Are  hidden  with  the  Lord: 
From  the  shades  of  his  pavilliona 
Doth  he  watch  and  ward  the  milions 

Of  his  host. 

Of  all  those  ranks  resplendent, 
And  the  trusts  on  Him  dependent, 
None  are  lost ! 

Oh,  wounded  for  his  cause! 
Dost  though  tremble,  then,  and  pause? 
Oh,  souls  so  full  of  sorrow 
And  anxious  for  the  morrow 

Of  his  Sun  ! 

'Mid  the  mystery  and  wonder, 
From  His  "Secret  Place  of  Thunder" 
It  is  done! 


Freedom 

Qow  shall  we  sing  Great  Freedom's  song 
That  marcheth  on  through  ages  long, 
Her  feet  all  scarred  with  shard  and  thorn, 
Her  back  bent  by  the  burdens  borne? 

What  star  is  this  upon  Her  brow? 

— A  gleam  that  yearns  All  Truth  to  know! 
What  song  is  ringing  in  her  ears? 

—It  is  the  Music  of  the  Spheres! 
What  pulse  that  fills  her  mighty  Soul? 

—A  Mother's  Heart  that  loves  the  Whole! 

What  Ephod,  shot  with  glittering  gems, 
Shines  vast  between  Her  shoulder  hems? 

— These  are  the  kindly  gracious  Arts 
By  which  man  grows  his  noblest  parts. 

What  Girdle  this,  so  broad  and  good? 

—It  is  the  Band  of  Brotherhood '.'" 

What  golden  cords  and  silver  line 

— Enrap  Her  loins — Her  garments  twine? 

They're  Duty,  Courage,  Faith  and  Prayer, 

And  Hope  triumphant  o'er  despair, 

And  Zeal  that  spreads  the  flame  of  Love 

'Till  every  tyrant  shackle's  clove! 

And  Pity  bending  in  the  dust 

And  bearing  scorn  (where'er  she  must) 

To  lift,  to  lighten,  to  reveal, 

And  from  that  dust  to  God  appeal! 

This  is  Her  Form — so  grand  and  free — 
That  marcheth  on  to  destiny ! 
This  is  The  Mother  of  us  all, 
And  this  is  God-born  LIBERTY! 


Jti 


Trit  Victory  of  Trenton 

(Anniversary) 

I><AKK!     The  beat  of  muffled  drum! 
*-*      Ragged  veterans — straining  fast! 
Starved  and  bleeding — lo!  they  come 
Frozen  by  the  wintry  (blast! 

What  is  poverty  or  sharne. 

Shock,  privation,  wounds  or  fear? 
Lo!  their  hearts  are  all  aflame — 

Human  Liberty  is  near! 

Hounded  by  a  despot  lord, 
Pounded  by  the  river's  ice, 

"Fatherland"  is  still  their  word; 
Priceless  Freedom  still  their  choice! 


What  is  this  we  see  today 

Through  the  land  where  thus  they  bledi 
Subtler  tyrants  still  seek  sway, 

Sleek  Corruption  rears  its  head! 

Hush  the  march,  and  still  the  trump! 

Mock  them  not  with  bra/en  blare; 
Purge  the  ballot  and  the  stump; 

Save  the  Nation — ye  who  dare! 

Boast  not  of  your  patriot  sires, 
Of  the  blood  they  shed  in  vain, 

While  ye  quench  their  sacred  fires, 
And  your  birthright  sell  "for  gain!" 

Who  will  fight  as  once  they  fought — 
Suffer  loss  and  scorn  and  shame, 

That  our  land  shall  not  be  "bought," 
Nor  their  Freedom  fade — a  "name?" 


John  Brown's  Grave 

(North  Elba,  Adirondack  Mountains,  N.  Y.) 

a  FIERCE  wild  cry  against  the  night! 
A  shot — a  halter — and  a  grave! 
Here  lies  the  lion  in  his  broken  might; 

There  mounts  the  unshackeled  human  slave! 

Still  now,  and  safe  from  every  tyrant  foe, 

Upon  God's  uplands, — hush — he  sleeps  in  peace! 

The  stern  grand  mountains,  in  their  purest  snow, 
Guard  like  grim  wardens — until  warfares  cease. 

The  murmuring  forests  with  their  mighty  moan; 

The  lone  shrill  eagle  'mid  the  storrn  swept  skies; 
The  age  carved  boulder  of  primaeval  stone; 

Watch  where  the  old  saint's  bruised  body  lies. 

Hark!  from  the  eagle  upon  widespread  wing, 
I  hear  that  shrill  scream,  ever  and  anon! 

Here  by  the  sad  grave  humble  birdlets  sing; 
There  the  Great  "Ghost"  goes  marching  on! 


AVi 


sion 


I^HKY  tell  me  that  John  Brown  is  "dead;" 
^-'      That  he  sleeps  in  his  grave — in  a  bed 
Of  the  rocks  and  the  sands,  and  the  snow 
And  the  forests  of  long,  long  ago. 

But  I  tell  them  I  waive  what  they  say 
To  the  winds  and  the  snowdrifts  at  play; 

For  at  midnight — at  Christmas — he  came 
In  the  moonlight — the  stillness — the  flame! 


And  he  stood  at  my  window — so  white! 

— With  his  granite  face  grim  in  the  light; 
And  the  Christ  child  was  clasped  to  his  side 

As  he  said:  "For  this  child  I  once  died!" 

Then  turning  as  though  they  must  go 
They  looked  in  my  heart  and  said,  low: 

* 'There  are  so  many  millions  to  save 

Should  one  steep — in  one's  peace  in  one's  grave!' 


Elephantis 


(On   the   beautiful   jfroup  of  rnumitnin*  ui-ui 
PlacM,  N.  Y.,  called   "The  (iij)ut    KU-phsmt 


and  grand 

"The  Giants"  stand! 
Crystal  rocks  are  their  bones  within; 
Their  pulse  blood  is  the  living  spring; 
The  long  scarred  seams  on  their  hoary  hides 
Are  the  gorges  of  the  forest  sides; 
Their  trunks  on  high,  in  sublime  advance; 
Their  roar  the  mountain  avalanche! 

Emblems  of  TKUTH'S  almighty  power 

They  scorn  the  flight  of  the  passing  hour; 

The  mists  and  snows  they  little  heed, 

Coursing  their  rugged  loins  in  speed; 

The  tempest  flays  their  flanks  in  vain 

With  lightning's  scourge  —  with  blightning  rain! 

The  ages  come,  and  the  ages  go; 
The  spring  time  flowers  —  the  winter  snow: 
Clad  in  their  robes  of  ermine  white 
They  bare  their  brows  to  the  polar  night; 
And  the  stars  of  God  shine  down,  in  light, 
Upon  their  splendor  of  solemn  might! 


Self  Reliance 


thinketh  he  must  "dine  on  meat." 
Another  "tastes   but  herbs," 
Adores  conventions — this  or  that, 
While  Doubt  his  soul  disturbs. 

He  trembleth  at  the  breath  of  one; 

He  shrinks  to  suit  another; 
And  seeks,  by  shutting  out  the  sun, 

His  better  self  to  smother. 

They  care  not — cruel  critics  all — 

Whose  gain  is  other's  loss; 
Whose  pride  is  only  tinsel, 

Whose  virtue's  showy  dross! 

The  angel  Death  shall  smite  them — 

The  end  of  Time  for  all! 
The  heavenly  test  is:    "Who  has  I  wed"? 
But  not  their  "codes,"  at  all! 

So — cast  my  casements  open! 

Let  in  the  joyous  day ! 
I  love — this  is  my  token — 

I  have  not  long  to  stay! 


Hesp 


era 


AS  evening1 — in  midsummer's  hush 
That  Love  came  down — with  Passion's  rush! 
—Only  the  angels  saw  her  blush! 


To  CaiapHas 


"-Tr"  CARE  not  a  coin  for  your  crown! 

— Ye  priests  of  the  science  of  Self, 

With  phylacteries  falling  low  down 
But  your  prayers  and  your  poses  for  pelf! 
Ye  climb  to  your  steeples  so  high. 
Yet  mock  at  the  heroes  who  die. 

I  care  not  a  coin  for  your  blame ! 

— Ye  drones  that  lay  burdens  so  vast 
Upon  Life  with  its  rapture  and  flame. 
Yet  out  of  your  temples  it  cast ! 

I  gladly  haste  forth  from  your  wall 
To  find  Mercy  and  Beauty  for  all. 

Ye  trees  that  are  barren  of  figs 

— While  ye  rustle  and  flutter  your  leaves  ! 
I  fly  from  your  convents  of  prigs 
To  gather  life's  sacredest  sheaves! 
Ye  neither  pass  in  at  The  Gate 
Nor  suffer  the  sad  that  there  wait. 

Go!  gather  your  harvest  of  dust 

And  whitewash  your  charnel  of  bones! 
Go  heap  up  your  coin — if  you  must — 
And  pile  up  your  crumbling  stones  ! 

Build  houses — till  there  be  no  room  ! 
They  shall  fall  at  the  first  crack  of  Doom  ! 

I  care  not  a  coin  for  your  pride 

It  is  false,  it  is  barren  and  drear; 
It  is  waste  that  is  washed  by  the  tide; 
It  is  chaff — when  the  harvest  is  sere ! 

Let  me  live!  Let  me  love  till  the  last  ! 
/  will  still  Hue  and  love — whan  aIVs  past ! 


Two  Ways 

JZT  BRAIN— most  vain  for  clarity— 
LJ>      Came  marching  down  the  road. 
Said  he:  "I'm  famed  for  charity: 

I  grasp—then  give  abroad. 
My  wealth   is  without  parity, 
I  am— a  little  God" 

Just  then  there  passed  "A  carpenter." 
It  was  The  Christ  our  Lord  ! 

He  bore  the  kit  of  toiler; 

For  daily  tasks— the  tools; 
He  wore  the  garb  of  moiler 

(So  much  despised  by  fools:) 
He  passed  that  vain  despoiler 

Who  sought  His  Heaven  "by  rules." 

Quoth  Christ:  "Good  friend— a  lesson 
I've  learned  in  Higher  Schools." 


"Not  all  the  pride  of  giving 
Can  lift  from  man  his  sins; 
Nror  in  the  pomp  of  living 

Is  where  God's  grace  begins. 
Be  fair— before  you're  generous: 
Be  modest — ere  you're  proud; 
Do  Justice  and  love  Mercy, 
Walk  humbly  with  our  God  !" 


Stephen  StQned 


aE  did  not  give  me  Hreath  ! 
— I  was  sent  here 

With  many  a  longing,  faith  and  fear, 
Into  a  globe  like  one  vast  swollen  tear — 
To  save  from  death  ! 

Ye  did  not  give  me  Life  ! 

— I  came  upon  the  breeze; 

A  murmur  in  the  mulberry  trees; 
A  spirit  send  o'er  weltering  seas 

To  still  their  strife. 

Ye  did  not  give  my  Dream 

That  night  and  day  enwrapped  my  soul, 
And  bade  it  drink  its  bitter  bowl, 

And  to  the  mighty  Social  Whole 
Prove  far  more  than  I  seem ! 

Ye  did  not  give  me  Praise ! 

—For  when  the  blows  of  fate  fell  fast, 
And  all  the  spite  of  Hell  was  cast 

Full  in  my  face — ye  too,  the  last, 
Your  hands  did  raise! 

Ye  did  not  give  my  Song ! 
— Out  of  the  depths  there  came  A  Voice  tome 

Saying:  "Arouse!  Rejoice!  Look  up  and  see! 
Preach  to  the  poor  enslaved  !  Go  set  them  free! 

Loose  their  dull  thong  !" 

And  so  I  sang  my  Lay: 

"God  is  a  SPIRIT  in  the  Earth  and  Air ! 

He  breathes  in  atoms  all  that's  good  or  fair — 
Beauty  for  ashes  !     Fail  not  nor  despair  ! 

He  brings  The  Day!" 


The  Living  Church 

T  great  day  cometh,  saith  the  Lord, 
"When,  not  on  tablets  stone, 
My  laws  of  Truth  and  Love  I'll  write. 
But  in  man's  nerve  and  bone. 

"Within  the  marrow  of  his  soul 

The  fibres  of  his  heart, 
I'll  grave  my  Codex — as  a  Whole — 

Nor  scant  a  single  part. 

"No  longer  then  shall  steeples  tower 

To  totter,  strain  and  fall; 
And  upwards,  in  that  sacred  hour. 

Shall  rise  no  narrow  wall! 

"With  heart  to  heart,  and  eye  to  eye. 

The  living — not  the  dead — 
Shall  be  my  Church,  and  in  them,  I 

Their  bridegroom  shall  be  wed. 

"Not  Law,  but  Love,  shall  be  my  spouse: 

My  children  those  of  Deed; 
And  Human  Brotherhood  arouse 

From  cant  and  creed  and  greed. 

"United  shall  my  church  arise 

From  every  clime  and  age  ! 
Against  the  host  of  hell— midskies— 

For  Michael  they'll  engage! 

"Victorious  then,  in  heavenly  peace, 

With  every  foe  o'erborne, 
Sorrow  and  Death  and  Hell  shall  cease, 

And  My  bright  Crown  be  worn  !" 


IIP 


ensei-oso 


O 


LD  years !  fond  years  !  sad  years  ! 
Ah— Why  so  full  of  tears 
For  the  love  felt  but  half  said 

— To  the  living — to  the  dead? 


O!  why  the  waste  and  strife 

When  the  fleeting  cup  of  life 
Is  rich  in  sweetest  joys 

For  the  hearts  that  Love  employs? 

Like  a  chord  that's  lost — a  strain 

That  may  never  come  again, 
Is  the  fragrance  of  those  years 

That  were  washed  away  in  tears ! 

Lord  of  Life  and  Love  !   Once  more, 

Ere  we're  gathered  to  Thy  shore. 
O  come  to  us  again 

With  Thy  Love- without  the  pain! 


Magdalen 


^^HEY  brought  me  to  the  Master 
^-'      And  said — "She's  devils  seven!" 
He  bade  them  "take  the  devils," 
But  took  me— into  Heaven! 

"She  sinned  because  she  loved  much; 
She  shall  be  much  forgiven!" 

They  shrank  away,  revengeful, 

A  devil  in  each  heart ; 
They  tore  His  brow  with  brambles ; 

Through  me  they  drove  their  dart ! 

— But  Resurrection  morning 

I  heard  the  angels  call ! 
I  was  'the  First'  to  clasp  Him ! 

I  did  "outrun  them  all !" 


Buonarotti's  Madonna  and  Child 

(Mect'ri  Chnpel.) 

AND  Sacred  Mother!  bending  low, 
Above  thy  boy,  thy  marble  brow 

And  brooding  on  the  coming  years 
Thine  aching  heart  seems  strained  to  know 
Its  wealth  of  joy,  its  weight  of  woe, 
Too  deep  for  tears ! 

Thine  ample  bosom,  rich  and  kind 
Seems  bending  down,  as  if  to  bind 

Its  pent  up  agonies ! 
He  drinks  its  tide,  its  ebb  and  flow; 
And  like  a  Giant  seems  to  grow 

To  deathless  destinies ! 

Madonna  Mea !  grand  and  true ! 
I  clasp  thy  knees ;  I  yearn  to  you 

In  speechless  sympathy ! 
I  am  thy  humble  human  child, 
And  thou  our  "Blessed  Mother"  mild, 

By  His  "Fraternity." 

Bind  me,  in  Love,  upon  thy  breast; 
There  firm  in  Faith  and  Trust  to  rest 

Eternally ! 

Teach  me,  in  strength  like  his  to  grow, 
And  live  to  him—  like  Angelo— 

And  Immortality ! 


Japanese  Lilies 


^j-  SAT  in  silence  watching 
*•*•*      Some  bulbs  of  lilies  grow, 
When  all  about  was  wildness, 
And  all  the  land  was  snow. 

My  life  had  pined  in  sadness, 
My  heart  nigh  turned  to  stone, 

Till  memory  was  madness 
And  sorrow  clove  the  bone! 

Then  turned  I  toward  the  lilies, 
Whose  roots  were  dipped  in  sand, 

Whose  tendrils  grasped  but  rocklets, 
While  yet  their  Dreams  were  grand! 

I  fed  their  roots  with  water 

As  time  had  fed  me  tears; 
I  dipped  their  sands  in  moisture 

As  grief  had  dipped  my  years; 

And  slowly  from  the  shadows 
There  grew  a  bloom  of  Youth, 

A  fragrance  and  a  floweret; 
—It  was  the  Dream  of  Truth! 

It  was  The  Bulb  of  Beauty 

That  rose  through  grief  and  fall! 

It  was  the  Faith  in  Duty, 
That  conquered — all  in  all! 


•47 


The  Lily  and  tHe  Rose 

(A  Harmony  by  Contrast.) 

^'HERE  grew  a  lily  by  a  garden  close ; 
V-'  And,  just  beside,  there  flamed  a  ruby  rose. 
Quoth  lily:    "Thou  art  fairer,  friend,  than  I ! 
See  how  immaculate  and  cold  I  lie. 

While  all  the  summer  odors  pass  me  by !" 

Then  spake  the  rose  unto  the  lily  fair, 
"Thou  art  so  pure  and  white,  I  love  thy  air 
Of  stately  chastity — thou  vestal  fine  ! 
Would  that  thy  gracious  elegance  mere  mine : 

Naught  can  thy  classic  lines  and  forms  refine  !" 

"But,"  quoth  the  lily,  "by  thy  purpled  vest, 
And  all  thy  tangled  passion,  warm  impressed, 
I  know  thy  Heart — aflame  with  Rapture's  wine ! 
Would  that  I  had  a  fragrance  such  as  thine  ! 

Naught  can  such  wealth  of  ecstasies  combine  ! 

"O  Trumpet  of  the  Holy  one — so  white  !" 
Thus  spake  the  rose :    "Thy  being,  full  of  light, 
Is  matchless  music  !  while  my  tangled  leaves 
Are  ravished  by  the  nectar  hunting  bees, 

And  I  am  swept  and  broken  by  the  breeze  !" 


Then  came  an  angel,  in  Auroral  light, 
And  kissed  the  lily  on  that  cheek  so  white ; 
And  culled  the  rose  and  laid  it  on  his  breast ; 
And  by  its  side  the  lily  slept  at  rest ; 

And  e'en  the  angel  knew  not  which  was  best. 

So  passing  through  the  Gate  of  Heaven,  he  trod 
The  pearly  Path  where  shone  the  Throne  of  God. 
And  asked:  "Which  flower  in  Beauty,  ranks  above 
Its  fellow  fair?   Then  with  celestial  nod, 

God  answered:   "one  is  TRUTH,  the  other  LOVK. 


"Hast  thou  not  read,  in  my  First  Book  (of  Truth), 
How  I  refined  pure  patient  Faith,  in  Ruth? 
Yet  in  the  Second  Chapter  (of  my  Love) 
How  the  warm  Heart  of  Mary  I  approve — 

Though  the  red  dart  of  sorrow  through  her  drove"! 

Then,  stepping  down  to  earth,  the  Godhead  shone 
Upon  two  hearts  which  Fate  was  making  one; 
He  entered  like  "a  Guest'* — serene,  divine; 
The  crystal  Water  changed  to  liiscious  Wine! 

So  burst  the  festal  joyance  into  flame  ! 

You  know  that  Feast-of-Cana — and  His  Name  ! 


Stabat  Mater 

O  SERAPH  of  the  starry  zone 
That  sitteth  by  the  open  tomb, 
Thou  rollest  back  the  ponderous  stone 
And  bid'st  the  risen  spirit:  "Come  !" 

Thou  sayest  to  him  that  falleth  low 

And  clasps  thy  feet  with  humble  prayer; 

"Dear  soul  —look  up  from  all  below  ! 
The  Lord  has  risen  !  He  is  not  here." 

And  to  the  weeping  women,  dear, 

Who  stand  and  ring  their  hands  in  grief, 

Behold  !  thou  driest  every  tear, 

And  pourest,  on  their  hearts,  Surcease. 

And  lo  !  as  now  we  watch  the  Gate 
We  catch  His  streaming  light  afar ; 

And  hear  His  tender  voice:  "Await! 
I  come — with  My  trinmphal  car  !" 


Gavin  and  Babbie 

(Characters  in  Barrio's  "Little  Minister.") 

KAT  Nature's  heart  knows  every  child 
She  bears  from  out  her  forests  wild, 

Or  vales,  or  hills,  or  moors,  or  glens ; 

And  whither  each  one's  pathway  wends. 

She  gave  them  birth — she  gave  them  grace- 
And  breathed  the  poem  of  each  face. 

A  stalwart  soul,  austere  and  bold, 
Young  Gavin's  heart  her  faith  shall  hold. 
While  Babbie's,  full  of  fire  and  grace, 
Shall  be  the  flame  lines  of  her  face ! 

Those  flames  shall  melt  and  forge  his  force ; 

His  iron  shall  shield  her  grace's  course. 

Take  us,  O  mother  Nature,  then, 
Aud  bear  us — in  thine  arms — again  ! 
We  long  unutterably  for  Thee ; 
Into  Thy  bosom  broad  we  flee. 

Thine  are  the  tides  that  fire  our  blood ; 

Thine  are  the  dreams  that  o'er  us  flood ; 

Thine  are  our  longings  toward  the  good  ! 

But  what  is  Good?   Great  Nature,  Thou 

Alone  canst  tell — when? — who? — and  how? 

So  let  the  voices  of  the  blest 

That  stir  us,  lead  us,  too,  to  rest. 

And  in  the  place  of  void  and  chill 
With  Thy  full  Self  our  beings  fill ! 


Abelard  and  Eloise 

shadows  of  the  moonlight  break  and  droop 
Across  the  cloister  towers; 
What  noble  faces  these  that  fondly  stoop 
While  toll  the  midnight  hours? 

The  deep  bronze  bell  sighs  forth  upon  the  breeze. 
Laden  from  convent  gardens,  looking  o'er  the 

seas; 
'Tis  Father  Abelard  and  fair  nun  Eloise! 

All  Love  divine!  and  long  remembered  vow! 

Ye  taught  these  hearts  to  feel. 
Thine  were  the  seeds:  lo!  this  the  flower  now  ! 
Their  human  senses  reel ! 

Thy  Beauty's  fragrance  Hoods  the  budding  trees, 
Thy   mighty    passion   warms   what  cant  alone 

would  freeze ! 
So  Abelard  enfolds  his  loved  one — Eloise ! 

A  form  to  clasp — a  heart  to  trust  and  sigh — 

This  is  thy  dower  ! 

Toll  mighty  music !  roll  down  from  on  high ! 
Pour  from  thy  tower ! 

Dull  monks  may  sleep  and  drone  upon  their  knees 
But  Genius  wakes !   and  Love  its  human  bliss 

must  seize ! 
So  Abelard  clasps  tight  his  loved  one,  Eloise ! 

Ah  thus  we  learn  thy  lesson  from  the  past 

And  mediaeval  lore ! 

No  veil  nor  vow,  no  lock  nor  key  may  last — 
"Love  doth  fulfil  The  Law!" 

Cold  cell  or  seal,  dull  bolt  and  bar  must  cease ! 
Fond  hearts  come  stealing  through  the  moonlit 

trees ! 
Love  links  to  love! — like  Abelard  and  Eloise! 

41 


Buddha  Bell 

-|-  AM  the  "Buddha  Bell" 

**"*  That  was  born  of  a  song  and  a  sigh! 

My  strokes  the  long  ages  tell 

As  the  children  of  men  go  by. 
I  breathe  in  the  air  and  the  sky, 

My  notes  are  the  centuries'  roll, 
1  bend  to  the  low  and  the  high, 

And  barken  to  Nature's  soul ! 

I  am  the  "Buddha  Bell!" 

My  heart  is  of  mellow  bronze ; 
My  old  worn  sides  reflect 

Her  flowers  and  leaves  and  fronds ; 
And  I  glance  to  her  waters  below, 

And  gaze  on  her  stars  afar, 
While  my  vibrant  chords  outflow 

Without  a  single  jar. 

1  am  the  "Buddha  Bell"- 

With  deep  voice  soft  and  low ; 
I  know  Life's  mystic  spell, 

Her  tones  as  they  ebb  and  flow. 
Her  choirs  of  Heaven  and  Hell, 

Her  anthems  of  earth  and  of  air, 
Are  caught  in  my  bosom's  swell 

And  rung  to  Eternal  Prayer ! 

To  a  Japanese  Nocturne 

(Of  Blrdlota  AMeephi  the  Full  Moon.) 

night  is  still — the  willows  droop, 
The  film  threads  tangle  all  the  sky, 
The  cloudlets  swim  through  curl  and  loop, 
The  twilight  sounds  go  murmuring  by. 

41 


Wee  birdlets,  on  the  bending  bough, 
Fall  nodding  low,  with  breast  to  breast : 

And  he  who  has  not  sung  enough 
He  is  the  Poet  of  the  rest. 

For  lo !  the  full  moon  rolling  up 
Will  not  awake  them  while  they  sleep. 

She  pours  for  them  Nepenthe's  cup 
And  doth  her  tender  fledglings  keep. 

Great  Mother  God,  across  whose  Breast 
By  night  or  day  the  planets  roll, 

Keep  us,  Thy  fledglings,  save  at  rest; 
And  be  the  Moonlight  of  our  soul ! 


Fire  Flie 


mystic  fireflies,  that  glow 
Along  our  path,  as  home  we  go, 
When  twilight  shadows  gently  fall 
And  vesper  bells  begin  to  call. 

Ye  are  the  spirits  of  the  plane 
That  light  our  fond  hearts  home  again  ; 
Ye  are  the  twinkling  lamps  of  bliss 
That  toss  to  us  the  hearth's  bright  kiss, 

Thy  fairy  torches  seems  to  be 
The  Pleiads  of  life's  mystery  ! 
They  are  God's  constellations  low, 
That  stoop  to  help  the  humble  grow. 

What  would  our  summer  evenings  be 
Without  thy  matchless  witchery? 
Sweet  falling  stars  !  Ye  bring  us  Heaven 
Close  down  to  Earth,  to  make  it  Eden  ! 

4:1 


Midsummer  s  Evening 


the  velvet  shadows  of  the  night, 
J  Through  tangled  depths  of  dewy  summer  grass ; 
The  firefly  legions  float,  in  mystic  light. 
And  back  and  forth,  in  mazy  dances  pass ! 

They  flash  and  fade — they  glint  and  glide — full 

soon 
Through  the  soft  clasping  fingers  of  the  moon  ! 

Dark  branches  weave  their  trellised  interlace; 
And,  through  them,  flash  the  stars  of  Heaven  aglow! 
Across  their  depths  the  constellations  race, 
Mingle  and  melt  with  those  that  beam  below ! 

They  blend  their  magic  influences,  rare. 

With  odorous  flowers  that  haunt  the  summer  air! 

Wafted  from  woodlands  that  are  far  aw;iy. 

Or  gardens  close,  now  ripening  with  the  year; 

The  tang  of  thyme,  sweet  Marjoram,  new  hay; 

The  crispy  notes  of  crickets — on  the  ear ! 

The  stir  of  cattle;  tinkling  bells  of  sheep 

That  clink  and  clash,  so  gently- moved  in  sleep! 

Deep  breathes  the  Karth,  with  Love's  sweet  under- 

sigh ; 

And  bright  beams  Heaven,  with  radiant  overglow; 
Rich  is  the  Rapture !  and  the  Gods  draw  nigh ! 
The  fairies  find  them,  and  the  elfins  know  ! 

So  too,  O  Love !  we  mortals  catch  thy  bliss ! 

Thy  magic  trances — till  we  cla»p  and  kits! 


Stars  of  Midsummer 

OEEP,  soft  and  rich  the  blue  of  night 
Settles  o'er  all  the  landscape  wild ; 
The  woods  are  still,  the  eve  is  light. 
And  I  am  hushed— as  Nature's  child. 

1  dread  no  care,  sourcil,  nor  pain, 
But  fix  my  heart,  and  trust  in  God. 

The  year  has  ripened  all  my  grain, 
And  brought  to  bloom  my  golden  rod. 

Hush,  now,  my  soul,  in  Nature's  anus, 
New  born,  within,  from  doubt  and  care : 

From  all  the  vain  world's  false  alarms ; 
They  fright  not  where  God's  angels  are  ! 

Dark  clouds  above — like  clouds  within- 
Are  rift  by  silent,  silvery  bars ; 

And  over  all  Earth's  load  of  sin 
I  watch  the  deep  set  summer  stars  '. 

Rest 

now  sweet  when  winds  and  waves  awake 
And  evening  lamps  burn  low, 
To  while  an  hour  upon  the  lake 
And  with  my  skiff  to  row. 

To  hear  the  quail  within  the  brake, 

The  piping  snipe  by  shore, 
The  wild  duck  fluttering  from  the  lake, 

The  mountain's  rich  encore ! 

O  for  the  breath  of  breezes  sweet — 

The  frosty  air  and  chill 
Descending  on  the  summer  heat 

With  evening's  whip-po'will ! 

The  low  stars  blink  out,  one  by  one ; 

Slow  grows  the  evening  hour ; 
'Till  from  the  embraces  of  the  sun 

Night  rests  in  all  her  power ! 
II 


Songs  in  the  Night 

("Thou  give«t  songs  in  the  night  season."  Psalms) 

the  warm  Southern  midnight  so  calm. 
In  the  stillness  of  stars  all  aglow, 
I  awake  and  arise  on  my  arm 
As  I  hear  the  sweet  rich  overflow 

Of  the  nightingale's  call  to  his  mate! 
' '  /  love  thee,  Loce  !  early  or  *late  ' 

"I  love  thee  by  rnorn,  when  the  day 

Has  purpled  the  sky  in  the  east ; 

I  love  thee  by  moon's  fullest  ray 

That  gildeth  the  earth  for  life's  feast ! 

I  love  thee,  at  Twilight's  soft  gate 
I  love  thee  Love !  early  or  late ! 

"Ah!  youth  knows  my  heart  was  but  thine! 
And  Life  in  its  fullness,  but  thee! 
Thee  only — at  daylight's  decline 
Thee  only — when  night  shadows  flee ! 

Thee  only  !  at  Heaven's  High  Gate ! 

I  love  thee,  Love!  early  or  late!" 


Orpheus 

"-y  HKAHD  a  blythe  bird  sing,  at  break  of  day 
-*"»  A  strange  sweet  song; 
So  silver  clear — a  woodland  roundelay  — 
And  long! 

It  "seemed  a  bird" — had  I  not  better  sayr 

For  from  my  dream  I  woke; 
And  while,  all  wondering  on  my  couch  I  lay, 

A  seraph  spoke 


4t; 


And  said,  with  sweetness  that  no  mortal  kens: 

"  'Tis  Nature's  voice! 
She  speaks  whenever  willing  soul  attends; 

Rejoice  ! 

She  watches  for  the  open  heart 

And  falls 
Into  the  fevered  pulse;    Her  art 

Knthralls  ! 

In  every  glade  thou  hearest  Orpheus  play ; 

In  every  flower  there  lurks  an  angel  song; 
In  every  gem  there  hides  a  heavenly  lay; 

And  Time,  the   choir,    shall  but  the  notes  pro 
long  !" 


Slumb 


ers 


OLOVE,  as  the  shadows  falter, 
And  the  dews  droop  o'er  the  wold, 
Let  us  hie  to  our  own  home  altar, 
And  our  wings  that  are  weary,  fold, 

As  the  stars  shine  out  so  tender, 
And  the  moon,  with  its  cup  of  gold. 

Let  us  climb  to  our  perch  so  slender. 
To  love's  nest — that  is  aeons  old  ! 

Let  us  nestle  our  snow  white  pinions. 
And  flutter  our  feathers  of  down, 

While   the  stars  flash  out  in  their  millions 
And  the  moonbeams  the  midnight  crown ! 

Ah  then— as  the  planets  sweep  sunward 
'Mid  murmurs  so  soothing — so  blest — 

Heart  to  heart  we  shall  dream,  and  float  on 
ward  ! 
We  shall  rest!  We  shall  rest!  We  shah1  rest! 


Peace 

"Tr-  BREATHE,   today,   a   peace   no   untried  "angel" 

•*-         knows, 

Because  the  winds  have  hushed,  that  tore  my  tired 

sails. 
Soft  zephyrs  soothe  ray  brow,  where  hurtled  late  the 

snows, 
And  hawks  have  given  way  to  rapturous  nightingales! 

The  cold  fierce  North  that  drove,  erstwhile,  my  stag- 

'ring  bark. 

Has  lost  its  cruel  hold,  and  in  the  place  of  fear, 
Kind  balm  fills  up  old  wounds,  and  moonlight  breaks 

the  dark: 
And   flowers  of  spring   burst  forth  from  those  wan 

mountains  dre^r! 

Fade,  then,  thou  spectres  grim,  of  Mammon,  Greed 

,and  Care ! 
Fly  far — who   rob   the   soul   to   stuff  the  purse  and 

mouth ! 
Be  gone !  blind  tyrants  base !  Pride,  Fashion,  Caste, 

beware ! 
Deep,  sweet  and   long  I  drink  the  fragrance  of  my 

South! 

Fair  Isles  Atlantis  rise  where,  hushed,  the  night- 
winds  sleep ! 

My  boat  floats  light  and  safe,  within  its  quiet  port! 

Love's  curtain  closely  drawn  in  raptures  pure  and 
deep, 

God  gives  usHope  Etern' ;  and  not  one  tired  thought ! 


Great  Hearted 


("God  giveth  not  His  Spirit  l>y  measure"— but  "pressed 

down  and  running  ovrr." 
"The  generous  soul  shall  be  made  fat."  Bible.) 


SRIEND,  dost  thou  know  those  words — 
Rich  as  are  all  the  Lord's — 

Vast  like  some  swelling  river, 
Or  some  Aladdin  treasure 
Scorning  all  bound  and  measure  ? 
God  loves  a  inholeaoulad  giver ! 

Seest  thou  the  full  moon  merge 

Into  the  ocean's  surge; 

Hush  into  every  rill 
Till  the  vast  inlands  fill? 
—Wild  flag  and  wild  cress  thrill ! 

God  loves  a  greatheart,  giver. 

Knowest  thou  the  wild  dove's  nest 
And  the  down  torn  from  her  breast 

When  her  weelings  shiver? 

From  her  heart's  blood  ta'en 

Though  she  fall  slain  ! 
God  loves  a.fondheart,  giver. 

Hark !    Hast  thou  heard  that  song 
Larks  pour  when  springs  are  young 

Till  the  full  woods  quiver? 

"Joy  to  the  world  again  ! 

Good  will  to  loving  men  !" 
God  loves  a  cheerful  giver ! 


49 


Voices 

("There  are,  :»8  it  were,  so  many  kimis  of  Voices." — Hible.) 

J^HOV  sayest  "Silence  golden'' — Why  so  bold? 
^-^     When  evening  echoes,  low,  though  tipped  with 

daintiest  feet, 
Still   whisper  back   to  whisper,  with  fond    murmurs 

old, 

And  kiss  the  gentle  zephyrs  in  a  cadence  sweet ; 
Still  lightly  trip  in  music  over  moor  and  wold, 
And  breathe  their  evening   "Good   Night"   to 
the  slumbering  fold? 

Nay,  surely!  say  not  so — since  from  Creation's  dawn 
The  morning  stars  rang  out  their  song  of  rapturous 

glee; 
When  o'er  the  azure  depths  rode  forth  the  gladsome 

morn, 

And  angel  choirs  took  up  the  wonderous  symphony ! 
Then  sister  Pleiads  sang,  as  earth  wheeled  into 

line, 

And  hailed  the   newborn's  health,  in   quaffs  of 
heavenly  wine! 

Thou  canst  not  so — since  John  on  sacred  Patmos  slept 
And  saw  the  Heavenly  Hosts  disclosed  in  dazzling 

white ; 

Each,  with  a  harp  and  song,  out  of  the  darkness  lept, 
And  struck  the  chords  of  fire  with  notes  of  solemn 

might. 

Then  Christ  Himself,  grand  leader  of  the  choir, 
Moved  o'er   the  worlds    His  wand,  and  did  the 
strains  inspire. 


Nay  verily!    While   earth   rolls    'round  on  spinning 

wheel, 

And  all  the  fragrant  grass,  like  axle,  seems  to  burr ; 
While  there  are  lips  to  speak,  arid    hearts   to   throb 

and  feel, 
Thou  canst  not  still  the  accents  of  Dame  Nature's 

whirr ; 
So  long  as  bright  waves  break,  and  birds  are  on 

the  wing, 

And  rivulets  rush,  and  rills  do  ripple  to  the  sea, 
Thou  canst  not  quench  Her  voice  nor  bid  her  cease 

to  sing, 

Nor — impious — cry:  "the  word  of  Action  should 
not  be!" 

Death  and  decay,  with  clammy  hand  and  cold, 

Or    he  —  dull,  craven    soul  —  who  doth   his  mission 

shirk, 

May  love  the  Silence  blank  of  Chaos  drear  and  old, — 
"For  the  night  cometh,'"  fast,  "when   man   may  no 

more  work  ! ' ' 


Till  then,  give  me  the  song  that  sings  in  every  bough ; 
The  insect,  bird  and  beast,  that  wake  the  echoing  hill ; 
The  kiss  of  maid  and  child  that  flutters  to  my  brow; 
The  linnet,  lark  and  thrush;  the  evening  whippoor- 

will; 
Strike  high  the  Harp  of  Life  !  nor  run  the  Heart's 

wine  low, 
Till  Ocean's  depths  are  dry,  and  Time  itself  is  still. 


U 


Spring  Bugles 


^-~f  CRY!     A  wood-note  from  a  bough ! 
^-*-      A  sweet  voice  o'er  the  valley  hurled! 
A  strange,  strong  fragrance  breaking  through 
With  murm'rings  of  the  under- world! 

The  gurgling  rush  in  hidden  nooks; 

The  mystic  something  in  the  air; 
The  melting  snow,  the  sap,  the  brooks; 

The  peeping  verdure  everywhere ! 

O  blessed  Life,  again  renewed! 

O  tender  Voice — without — within! 
O  sunny  land — though  tear  bedewed; 

Dear  Nature,  purified  from  sin! 

Ah  me!  methinks  as  shadows  fade. 
That  I  am  Hope,  that  spreads  her  wing. 
Awake  sad  heart,  be  undismayed! 
It  is  the  Spring!  the  Spring!  the  Spring! 


Spring  Snow 


rwas  not  cold — the  soft  spring  snow- 
And,  open  wide,  I  threw  my  gates. 
With  windows  back,  and  face  aglow, 
I  cried  aloud:    "See!    March  abates." 


The  spring  had  come,  the  birds  were  here, 
The  winter  fled,  I  feared  no  cold; 

— When  suddenly,  from  out  the  clear, 
There  fell  these  flakes  o'er  moor  and  wold 

tt 


The  trees  were  bending  'neath  their  load 
The  birds  flew  fluttering  'neath  the  pines; 

And  far  and  wide  a  hustling  goad 
Drove  everything  before  the  winds! 

But  see!  the  sun  has  come  again; 

The  eves  are  rippling  with  fresh  rills; 
The  snow  is  soft  and  warm  as  rain; 

The  air  is  full  of  birdlet  trills! 


'Tis  so  my  Love  draws  back  her  lips, 
To  watch  my  startled  eyes  grow  sad. 

She's  mischief— to  her  finger  tips  ! 

She  loves  to  tease— then  kiss  me  glad! 


March  Breezes 


Dow,  stirring  in  the  womb  of  Life, 
Great  Pan  enkindles  all  his  fires  ! 
His  spirit  flames  to  woo  his  wife, 
And  all  the  winds  are  his  desires ! 

Bright  Nature  hears  his  manly  call; 

She  robes  herself  in  silvern  green; 
Unbinds  her  locks— lets  girdles  fall, 

Till  her  fair  maidenhood  is  seen ! 

Then  sparkling  o'er  the  bursting  brooks, 
She  glances  at  him,  wild  and  free; 

While,  from  the  mountain  tops,  his  looks 
Of  rapture  tell  of  joys  to  be! 

And  all  the  rills  begin  to   rush ! 

And  all  the  saps  begin  to  spring ! 
And  in  the  woodland's  deepest  hush 

He  woes  her  with  her  wedding  ring ! 
58 


Solomon  s  Song 


(THE  KING) 

/f^isK  up  my  Love!  my  Fair! 
•*^£      And  come  away  with  me ! 
Past  is  the  wint'ry  air, 

The  rain  and  snowflakes  flee ! 
The  flowerets  fresh  appear; 

Songbirds  fill  every  tree; 
The  turtle  dove  is  here; 

0  come  my  Love  to  me ! 

The  fig  trees  flush  to  bloom ; 

The  vines  with  tender  grapes, 
Burst  fragrant  from  the  gloom ; 

Rich  incense  sweet  escapes ! 
O  Dove!  from  nest  in  rocks, 

And  crannied  nooks  in  hills, 
Fly  to  me  from  thy  flocks; 

Thy  voice  within  me  thrills ! 

Come,  O  Beloved!     Let's  go 

Into  the  paths  afield; 
And  watch  the  streams  that  flow, 

And  what  the  vineyards  yield ; 
Fruits  pleasant  new  and  old : 

The  almonds  and  the  dates; 
The  oranges  with  hearts  of  gold. 

The  crimson  pomegranates! 

(SHE) 

O  Love!  thy  voice  so  kind 

1  hear,  and  hie  with  speed ! 
Like  mountain  roe  or  hind 

Mid  lilies  white  to  feed ! 


From  morn  till  break  of  day 
I  turn  to  drink  thy  kiss ! 

Till  shadows  flee  away, 

My  Love  is  mine! — I'm  his! 


Awake!  O  north  wind  wild ! 

And  sigh,  O  south  wind  sweet! 
Blend  power  with  passion  mild ; 

Spread  spices  o'er  our  feet! 
Come  to  the  Garden,  Love! 

And  taste  its  fruit  and  wine! 
My  loved  one!     I  am  his! 

Beloved — thou  art,  mine! 


(CHORUS) 

Who  cometh,  like  a  king, 

Out  of  the  wilderness? 
With  locks  like  raven's  wing, 

Tress  mingling  with  tress! 
Fair  as  the  Morning  Sun, 

Or  bannered  armies  brave  ! 
Like  columned  clouds  that  run, 

Or  stately  palms  that  wave ! 


Who  walketh  like  a  bride 

Out  of  the  sylvan  wood, 
Safe  leaning,  at  his  side, 

On  arm  of  her  Belov'd? 
Her  lips  so  vermeil  deep, 

Her  breasts  so  pure  as  snow ; 
Her  pearly  teeth  like  flocks  of  sheep 

That  o'er  Mount  Gilead  go ! 


(HE) 

O  Zion's  maidens  fair 

Have  ye  my  true  love  seen? 
Her  breath  frankincensed  air! 

— And  like  a  queen  her  mien ! 
Her  cheeks  like  Sharon's  rose; 

Her  neck  with  jeweled  bands ; 
Her  lilied  eyes  like  Paradise! 

Her  tender  comely  hands ! 

(SHE) 

O  David's  watchmen!     Hark! 

I've  sought  my  love — and  found! 
— By  paths  so  lone  and  dark! 

And  over  thorny  ground ! 
I've  brought  him  to  my  bed, 

And  to  my  mother's  home; 
The  wedding  held,  her  blessing  said, 

Our  hearts  shall  no  more  roam ! 

(HE) 

A  chariot  have  I  made 

To  bear  her  to  my  court, 
With  sandal  wood  inlaid, 

With  gold  and  silver  wrought; 
With  priceless  pillars  tall 

And  purple  robes  above; 
But  ceiling,  pavement,  wall, 

Are  built  of  LOVE!— of  LOVE{! 

(SHE) 

O  Salem 's  Daughters!     Hear! 

Unto  his  Banquet  House 
We  come  neath  banners  dear! 

Do  not  our  rest  arouse ! 


He  charged  thee,  'by  the  roes 
And  by  the  hinds  afield,' 

That,  not  until  he  chose, 
Our  slumbers  be  unsealed  ! 


(HE) 


O  spotless  fountain,  fair, 

That,  sealed  in  garden,  lies ! 
Beneath  thy  locks  of  hair 

Thou  hast  the  ringdove's  eyes! 
Thy  breasts  are  like  twin  fawns, 

That  feed  mid  lily  flowers; 
Where  spikenards  breathe  till  daylight 
— dawn ! 

Myrrh !  Camphor !  Saffron  flowers  ! 


(SHE) 


I  sleep — but  O  my  heart 

Within  me  waked! — Belov'd! 
Thy  fond  step  made  me  start, 

And  all  my  vitals  moved! 
So  quick  my  pulses  flew 

As  slipt  the  doorlatch  light ! 
Thy  noble  head  is  filled  with  dew, 

Thy  locks  with  drops  of  night! 


(CHORUS) 

Beside  guch  Love  Divine ! 

Such  pearly  lakes  for  eyes ! 
All  Fame  and  Wealth  and  Wine 

He'll  utterly  despise! 
Great  waters  drown  NOT  Love! 

Floods  cannot  quench  its  breath ! 
On  VICTOR  WIKGS  it  soars  above! 

'T!*  stronger  far  than  Death! 


Easter  —  Resurgit 

Tp<ARK  !    'Tis  a  trump  I  hear  ! 

*~^       Across  the  moorlands  clear — 

Above  the  mountains  bald — 
So  wondrous  new,  yet  old  ! 

"The  Year!    The  glad  New  Year!" 

Loved  hearts,  long  gone  to  God, 
That  sleep  beneath  the  sod, 
Do  ye  in  victory  sing 

When  through  the  welkin  ring 

Those  voices :  "Spring- !  'Tis  Spring?' 

()  faithful  spirits  fair 

That  to  the  world  declare 

Thy  mystic  message  long ! 
Then  join  the  heavenly  song 

Within  the  upper  air! 

Yes !  clear  we  hear  again 

Thy  rapturous  cry  to  men; 
"Death  is  destroyed,  and  Hell ! 

Behold  the  buds  that  swell- 
Ideals  from   God's  ken !" 

They  cannot  die— they  live ! 

O'er  all  things  they  survive  ! 

They  shall  not  fail,  nor  fear ; 
They  usher  in  the  year; 

And  lo!  the  rocks  they  rive! 


Rainbow    Rays 


("My  heart  l(;:ips  up  when  1  In-hobl 
A  rainbow  in  the  sky-"  —  Wor<leworth 

ypjv  soul  expands  when  it  surveys 
>*<      That  rainbow  in  the  sky  ! 
That  radiant  Bridge-of-Beauty  old 
O'er  which  the  sunbeams  fly  ! 

As  on  that  night  when  Jacob  slept 

And  saw  an  angel  host 
Descend  an  arch  which  space  oV.rl.eapt 

Arc  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ! 

O  Path  of  Genius,  Glory,  Light  ! 

Path  of  celestial  Thought  ! 
Thou  bridge  of  Duty,  Beauty,  Right, 

Without  which  life  were  naught  ! 

Thou  Flame  from  Inspiration's  rod  — 

Span  for  our  Best  Desires  ! 
Thou  Link  that  chaineth  Earth  to  God 

By  which  our  Faith  aspires  ! 

Splendor  by  which  all  Grace  is  given! 

Without  which  stars  grow  dull  ! 
Thy  rays  conduct  our  souls  to  Heaven 

God's  own  "Gate  Beautiful  !" 

Esperahza 


the  darkened  curtains  of  my  room 
v  1  watched  my  taper  die, 

And  dreamed,  because  of  gathered  gloom, 

Midnight  was  nigh. 
When  lo  !  a  tender  star  diffused 

Its  faint  far  light  ; 
So,  through  Life's  hurtled  storms  confused, 

Love  loomed  in  sight  ! 


Artist  Palette 


palette  that  can  glow 
-*•*      With  the  glories  of  the  sun  I 
Flower  and  fruit  and  bright  rainbow- 

Yellow.  blue  and  vermilion; 
Green  and  gold  and  carmine  red 

Dripping  with  the  blood  of  wine; 
Orange,  azure,  olive,  rose, 

Silver  sheen  —  this  placque  of  mine  ! 

When  I  slip  it  o'er  my  thumb, 

And  the  oil  has  filled  the  cup, 
Life's  no  longer  stale  nor  dumb; 

Lo  !  the  sprites  that  lick  it  up! 
Fairies,  sylphs,  and  seashells  gay 

Waves  and  sands  and  tides  that  run  ; 
Birds  and  beasts  and  youths  at  play; 

Twilight  flames  when  day  is  done  ! 

See  the  rich  bituminous  lakes, 

Where  the  night  glow  slumbers  deep; 
How  the  pearl-hue  o'er  it  breaks 

When  the  young  moon  wakes  its  sleep  ! 
Then  the  crinkling  threads  of  fire 

Through  the  dark,  cold  ultramarine, 
Stir  my  heart  with  strange  desire, 

Like  some  nymph  in  elfland  green. 

Now  I  see  the  years  unrolled, 

Since  the  morning  star  was  set, 
When  its  point  of  liquid  gold 

Lit  the  land  by  bright  dews  wet; 
And,  from  out  eternal  space, 

Poured  the  tide  of  ceaseless  Form  ; 
All  the  wealth  of  Beauty's  race, 

Up  to  day-god,  from  the  worm. 


Oh,  the  splendors  of  the  sky, 

And  the  scenes  that  o'er  it  pass; 
And  the  phantoms  streaming;  by 

In  the  shadows  of  the  grass! 
Oh,  the  treasures  of  the  eye, 

And  the  dreams  within  the  soul ! 
So  we  thank  Thee,  Lord  on  High, 

For  thv  Wealth  of  Nature  whole! 


All  Three 


HSONG  of  love  fills  all  the  glades, 
And  bird-nests  in  the  tree; 
All  meadow  lights  and  forest  shades; 
Then  why  not — me? 

The  flowers  in  love  their  heads  recline, 

And  drink  it  like  the  dew. 
From  morning's  blush  to  eve's  decline; 

Then  why  not — you? 

God  floods  all  space,  from  farthest  star, 

With  Love's  great  troth; 
It  filleth  Heaven,  to  where  we  are; 

Then  why  not — both? 

He  says  He  sends  Love's  angel  out 

To  thrill — where'er  we  be; 
He  fills  her  heart  without  a  doubt — 

Whv  not — all  three? 


Whip-po'-will 

1:  cool,  sweet  Spring  has  come  again, 
And  farmers  fling  their  golden  grain; 
Then  as  the  bright  days  linger  long. 
Out  from  the  woods  there  bursts  this  song. 
Which  seems  my  very  soul  to  thrill — 
" Work-with-a-will !    Work-with-a-will !" 

The  snows  and  frosts  are  fled  apace, 
And  new  year  smiles  with  kindly  face. 
Strom?  Youth  discards  all  drowsy  sleep, 
And  driving  plowshare  fast  and  deep, 
He  loves  thy  hail  across  the  hill — 
'  'Work-with-a-witi !     Work-with-a-will !" 

It  stirs  his  heart  with  Hope's  allure. 
And  pledges  blessings  sweet  and  sure, 
Of  home,  and  love  and  life,  and  wealth, 
And,  best  of  all,  sweet,  holy  health: 
And  far  into  the  twilight  still, 
It  seems  the  whole  round  earth  to  fill — 
"Work-with-a-will !    Work-with-a-will !" 

Brave  bird,  they  have  belied  thy  strain 
That  changed  it  to  some  sad  complain. 
Thy  bosom  could  not  bear  that  smart, 
Hut  calls,  amain,  from  hero  heart! 
its  clarion  floods  the  rich  campaign 
With  triumph  and  with  courage  plain 
- "Work- with-a- will !  Work-with-a-will! ' ' 


Robin  Red 

OUT  in  the  cherry  tree,  singing  and  wooing, 
Jolly  Red  Robin  sits,  billing  and  cooing: 
"Speak  quick  Love!  quick!  quick  Love! 
Cheerily!  cheerily!  merrily!  merrily!" 

Bounding  and  bubbling,  the  rollicking  lover 
Dashes  down  deep  in  the  daisies  and  clover: 

"Merriwig!  perriwig!  flip-flap-fling-a-jig! 

Come  along!  sing  a  song!    Spring  will  be  over! 

"Precious  dear,  I  am  here,  down  in  this  hollow; 
Here's  a  worm  !  watch  it  squirm!     Why    don't   you 
follow? 

Slim  and  slick!  pick  it  quick!  all  for  you,  Dearie! 

Make  haste!  take  a  taste!  here's  to  you  Cheerie!" 

Now  in  flight,  fast  as  light,  diving  and  rounding, 
Branches  break,  babies  wake,  groves  all  resounding. 
Back  to  the  cherry  tree — that's  where  he's  going — 
Rich  and  strong,  still  his  song  merrily  flowing : 

"Red  ripe!  such  a  sight!  see  the  bright  blood  start! 

Such  juice!  this  its  use!  Drink  deep,  Sweetheart!" 


Up  in  the  Upmost  bough,  sitting  above  her, 
Robin,  the  jolly  bird,  sings,  a  true  lover; 
Rollick,  and  frolic,  and  frisk  under  cover: 
Just  wed,  bosom  red —  brimming  all  over! 


Beauty  or  Love 

FAIR  Beauty,  wand 'ring  by  a  crystal  spring. 
Did  find  Adonis  bathing  in  its  stream; 
Her  loveliness  so  rare,  entranced  his  heart  to  sing, 
And  all  his  ravished  fancies  set  adream; 

Then  stepped  she  back,  so  lightly,  in  amaze; 
It  left  his  wondering  spirit  all  adaze. 

Upsang  a  turtle  dove  with  bosom  white, 

From  out  a  bough,  above  her  gentle  head: 
"Fair  Beauty,  thou  art  such  an  heavenly  sight 
That  thou  mayest  smite  my  young  Adonis  dead  ! 
It  were  not  well  that  thou  so  fair  shouldst  be 
Unless  thy  heart  can  feel  Love's  charity. 

"What  were  the  riches  of  the  Orient  wide. 

Or  all  the  pearls  that  revel  in  the  sea. 
If  they  about  a  proud,  cold  heart  abide, 
As  if  to  rose  there  shouid  no  fragrance  be? 
As  though  fair  hand  took  down  a  golden  lyre 
Yet  never  let  warm  heart  its  strain  inspire.'* 

Then  Beauty  looked  again,  wiih  gentler  eyes. 

And  lo!  Adonis  woke  from  out  his  swoon. 
So  threaded  they  that  Dance  of  Tender  Sighs 
Where  melts  the  magic  of  the  harvest  moon. 
So  on  her  gentle  bosom  slept  his  heart, 
Nor  evermore  (say  shepherds)  will  they  part. 

Maidfnkood 

jrjrtHv  doth  one  love  to  look  in  fond  and  pretty  eyes, 
^•^   Deep,  rich  and  kind,  of  fair  and  witchy  maiden? 
Why  doth  the  heart's  flame  burn  and  beat  in  sighs 
All  to  dance  a  measure  with  a  playful  hoyden? 

Sure,  1  know  full  well — but  the  secret  would  not  tell! 
Should  you  wish  to  know,  go  wander  by  the  seashore. 
Gather  up  the  purest,  the  pearliest  blushing  shell, 
Hold  it  to  your  ear,  and  harken  to  the  sea  roarf 


There,  within  its  heart,  the  ages  lie  in  wait ! 

All  the  myttic  dreams  that  man  could  ever  sigh  for; 

All  the  dazzling  splendor  that  pours  through  Heaven's 

gate; 
All  the  music,  sweet,  that  seraph  harps  draw  nigh  for! 

Put  your  cheek  up  close  and  listen  to  its  chords; 
Press  your  lips  down  light  to  kiss  its  pink-and-white- 

ness; 

Could  you  paint  it  now,  or  catch  it  up  in  words? 
If  you   could  —  you  couldn't  tell  a  maiden's  light, 

and  brightness ! 

Droop  upon  my  arm,  O  dainty  dimpled  face! 
Faint  upon  my  form,  fair  lily  in  thy  splendor ! 
All  the  tongues  of  Time  could  never  tell  thy  grace, 
Nor  the  marble's  blush  thy  matchless  beauty  render  ! 

Ths  Covering  of  Dreams 

iyiHEx  evening  light  descends  upon  the  day 

^^      And  home  these  gentle  lovers  take  their  way, 

Somehow,  to  him,  all  hallowed  o'er  she  seems 

With  heavenly  light !  He  covers  her  with  dreams ! 

Her  step  to  him  is  lighter  than  a  fawn's; 

Her  eyes  more  limpid  than  a  liquid  lake; 
Around  her  brow  an  aureole,  like  the  dawn's; 

And,  from  her  lips,  the  words  in  music  break! 

He  steals  his  arm  but  shyly  to  her  waist, 
So  like  a  goddess  rare  and  fair  she  seems ! 

Her  kiss  he  covets,  but  he  dare  not  take: 

His  heart's  aworship — covering  her  with  dreams  ! 

What  will  she  do  !  Will  she  divine  his  face 
And  read  her  glory  in  his  trembling  heart? 

Will  she  requite  his  love  with  equal  grace, 
Or  chide  and  chill  him — till  they  drift  apart? 

6* 


O 


Love  s  Wedding  Ring 

COME,  Love,  to  the  window 

And  watch  the  new  moon  fill  ! 
is  like  a  dewdrop  falling 
That  seraph  hands  distill  ! 


"1";  is  just  a  ring  of  silver 
With  just  a  drop  of  gold, 

That's  fallen  from  God's  finger; 
And  Love  its  margins  hold  ! 

It  is  our  marriage  symbol 

—  He  knows  how  deep  we  love  ! 
Our  names  are  "called"  in  Heaven 

—  We're  "wedded"  up  above! 


Little  Love  Cries 


V-*ITTLE  Love  cries 

-*-^  With  his  fingers  in  his  eyes 

—Wet  his  hands  ! 

See  he  stands 
At  thy  garden  gate  ! 
Dost  thou  make  him  wait  r 

Little  Love  implores — 
See  his  heart's  rich  stores  ! 

Wond'rous  things. 

That  he  brings; 
Boundless  treasures  rare  ! 
Why  make  him  despair? 


Little  Love  pines- 
See — his  courage  now  declines  ! 
How  he  stoops 
And  his  head  droops. 
Naught  he  further  sings 
I'nder  his  fallen  wings  ! 

Little  Love  dies  ! 

Canst  thou  drown  his  cries? 

O  cold  hard  heart ! 

Slain  is  he  by  thy  dart ! 
O  Fair  Maid,  without  ruth, 
Wake  to  his  Passion's  truth  ! 


Love's  Waiting 


Y  Love  and  I  are  watching 

Our  altar  fires  glow; 
Dear  missals  slow  consuming, 
The  embers  burning  low. 

Their  sacred  ashes  whiten 

And  crumble  into  dust, 
Love's  passions  droop  and  lighten 

Because  she  says  "they7  must." 

Fond  fingers  sad  relaxing, 
Fond  sighs  are  hushed  asleep; 

Her  tender  laws  exacting 
Their  toll  of  patience  reap ! 

She  will  not  let  me  clasp  her, 
Nor  yet  the  wedding  come ! 

She's  whispered:  "Love,  hereafter! 
— And  glided  from  the  room! 


Her  Challenge 


IT^HO  will  sing  a  maiden's  grace!" 
*=="*  Who  will  paint  for  me  her  face? 
Whence  has  come  her  witchery? 
Whither  wends  her  mystery? 

Who  those  atoms  wove  together 
Out  of  winds  of  every  weather — 
Breeze  of  spring  and  summer's  passion, 
Autumn's  swoon,  and  winter's  fashion 
When  against  the  purest  snow 
Reddest  berries  gleam  and  glow? 

Who  has  drawn  such  seraph  lines 
In  her  limbs — like  marble  vines? 
Who  has  dimpled  in  her  cheek 
Witcheries  so  mischief-meek? 
Who  has  painted  in  her  eyes 
Nocturne  dreams  of  Paradise? 

Who  has  hidden  in  her  breast 
Twitterings  of  the  songbird's  nest? 
What  the  mystic  tide  that  swells 
All  her  bosom's  dales  and  dells, 
Quivering  o'er  the  rosy  nipples 
With  its  laughter  and  its  ripples? 
Who  has  carved  her  rounded  thighs 
Into  madness,  longings,  sighs? 

Who  has  filled  her  cradled  womb 
With  Life's  magic  sunlit  gloom? 


Who  has  thrilled  her  mellow  heart 
With  its  rapture  and  its  smart? 
Who  has  crowned  her  holy  head 
With  the  living  and  the  dead? 


Tell   me  this — and  you  may  tell 
Eden's  bowers  of  Asphodel ! 

All  in  a  Look 

*TT'T  was  all  in  a  look — as  he  passed  ! 

-^»  As  we  stood  at  the  parting  of  ways. 

And  the  path  that  I  knew  not,  I  asked 

Of  my  heart — where  its  tide  water  plays 
At  the  turn  and  the  swirl  of  its  course, 
Ere  it  swing's  with  the  moon  t'ward  its 
Source. 

Yes,  he  passed !    And  I  saw,  in  his  glance, 
Such  a  wonder  of  worlds  in  their  race 
Through  the  skies ;  and  such  stars   that  err 

trance 

All  those  seas  of  the  soul ! — in  his  face  ! 
Such  a  magic;  of  marvel  and  light 
That  I  turned— and  I  followed  its  might! 

And  forever — forever — today, 
Sailing  on  in  the  wake  of  his  love, 
Though  I  see  not — or  know  not — the  way; 
Still  I  steer  by  His  STAR  far  above ! 

And  forever — forever — I  sing  ! 

Whatsoever  the  Future  may  bring  ! 


TKs  Woodland  Wound 

I  KNOW  a  fount  of  joy  and  pureness  unalloyed, 
A  deep  and  quiet  spring,  most  green  and  witch 
ing  fair, 
Where  naiad  forms  enweave  their  gold  locks,  bright 

deployed, 

And  drip  the  fragrant  waters  through  their  shining 
hair. 

There  sleeps  the  queen  of  fays — the  tender,  gracious 

sylph 
Who   binds   within    her  tress  my  wandering  moods 

and  sighs; 

There  gather  all  the  hosts  of  gentle  dreams;  and  elfs 
That  guide   the   kindled    fancy  through  the  night's 

disguise. 
The   moon   shines   on  that   nook,  the  nightingale  is 

there, 
Wherein  I  met  my  love,  so  winsome,  pure  and  lair. 

She  is  the  Cynthia  of  that  woodland  glen, 
And  all  its  matchless  lore  is  written  on  her  heart. 
She  hath  wild  Orpheus'  lyre,  Apollo's  bow  and  pen; 
She  hath  her  huntress  hounds,  her  nereids  and   her 
dart. 

Alas  !  one  moon,  whileome,  she  sped  an  arrow  keen, 
As  I  Endymion  pale,  gan  walking  in  her  glade; 
I  saw  her  gartered  grace,  her  gathered  kirtle's  sheen. 
And  felt  through  every  nerve  the   wound   her  shaft 

had  made. 

One  tide  of  glory  fell,  from  brow  to  silvern  shoon ; 
What  could    I   do   but   spring   to  her  fair  feet  and 


Then  bade  she  all  her  maids  make  bower  for  me  to  lie, 
And  with  her  woodland  simples  salved  the  dart's  red 
tide. 

TU 


There  at  my  head  she  sat,  and  garnered  up  each  sigh, 
And  wrapped  her  arms,  for  healing,  round  my  neck 

and  side. 

Ah,  what  a  wile  WHS  that!  for  each  day  deeper  grew 
The  bruise  that  would  not  heal,  the  ache  that  never 

passed, 
The  flame  I  could  not  quench,  the  pain  that   never 

flew. 
Till   her  sweet   love  was   granted,  for  the  which  I 

asked. 

Then  fast  and  high  beat  pulse,  and  banished  fled  the 

pain; 
And    lightly  through  the  woodlands  we   ran   whola 

again ! 

Swsit  Briar 

@  \VEKT  Briar !  Wild  Rose  !  all  alone  and  shy, 
Didst  thou  dream  that  I,  of  all,  e'er  could  pass 

thee  by? 

Modest,  fair  and  fragrant,  in  the  wildwood  shade, 
Where  the  Lord  once  hid  thee.  fairest  flower  he  made! 

Ah  !  thy  witchy  coyness  is  but  woodland  sleep 
By  thy  dewy  shyness  made  more  rich  and  deep; 
In  the  bosky  shadows  of  thy  green  retreat, 
Safe  thy  spirit  slumbers  till  thy  Prince  it  greet. 

Tender  pearl  of  flowers  !  how  thy  heart  I  know  ! 
Though  thy  petals  quiver,  still,  with  love  aglow; 
Though  thou  flutter,  trembling,  far  into  thy  nest, 
I  have  found  and  bound  thee  safe  upon  my  breast! 

Shall  I  fear  thy  thorns,  Lover    Gentle  Eglantine  ! 
They  were  born,  perchance,  of  dread,  thou  might 

not  be  mine. 

Now  no  foe  shall  harm  thee,  evermore  at  peace, 
Fond  and  fragrant  Sweet  Briar,  let  thy  exile  cease ! 


Her  Secret 

>~YOU  think  I  do  not  know  ray  love, 
^^      That  I  so  wayward  glance  and  glide 
Within  the  maze  of  whirlwind  dance, 
And  outwardly  my  feelings  hide? 

You  think  I  have  no  throbbing  heart 
That  stills  itself  lest  others  see, 

When  fingers  touch  and  fingers  part, 
And  his  dear  face  comes  round  to  me? 

I  know  his  love  in  every  step, 

The  passion  yearning  through  his  eyes; 
The  rich  pulse  burning  to  his  lip, 

Which  woos  me  with  its  warm  surprise. 

I  feel  the  quiver  through  his  frame, 
The  strong  knots  in  his  tangled  hair, 

The  hunger  that  he  cannot  name, 
The  tense  look  of  his  fond  despair. 

It  is  not  true  that  "Love  is  blind!" 
My  pulses  surge  beneath  his  glow ; 

My  heart  to  him  is  melting  kind, 

But  I'll  not  let  the  cold  world  know! 

Wait  till  the  vain  have  fled  and  gone, 
The  throbbiug  music  sunk  to  rest; 

Wait  till  he  comes  to  me  alone 
And  gathers  me  within  his  breast; 

Wait  till  the  whirl  has  passed  away; 

Then  in  the  moonlight  rich  and  still 
To  him  I'll  give  my  love  away. 

And  he  shall  have  his  true  heart's  fill ! 


Evolving 

y«Y  Love  is  like  a  lily  white 
^*^      That  grew  at  Easter  dawn ; 
She  came  as  comes  an  angel ! 

That  hails  a  holy  morn. 
Her  heart  is  clear  as  crystal. 
Her  bosoKi  pure  as  snow, 
And  fair  and  true  her  thoughts  are, 
As  only  angels  know. 

My  love  is  like  a  blood-red  rose 

That  bloomed  in  summer  time ; 
Her  heart  is  flushed  to  crimson, 

Her  bud  has  burst  to  prime  ! 
Her  blushing  bosoms  soften. 
Her  veins  are  full  of  wine, 
And  like  sweet  dew  drops,  often, 
Rapt  kisses  rain — they're  mine! 

My  love  is  like  a  cluster 

Of  grapes  in  Autumn  mauve ; 
Around,  her  darlings  muster — 

She  is  the  mother  Love ! 
On  every  side,  like  tendrils, 

They  climb  and  play  and  rove 
Like  waves  that  dance  at  evening 
Within  an  amber  cove ! 


Our  Wedding  Hour 

OLOVE  !   The  south  wind  sighs 
Our  wedding  sweet. 
Fond  hearts  must  blend 

And  passions  pure  must  meet. 
Each  warm  pulse  burns  like  wine 

Within  our  frames ; 
One  are  our  souls,  our  beings. 
And  our  names. 

One  living  tide  unites  our  lives 

For  aye! 
Bright  angel  of  my  soul, 

So  long  away 
Where  thou  hast  waited  till 

The  heavenly  call 
Has  made  us  welcome  to  give — 

Take — keep — all  ! 

This  is  the  precious  gift 

Of  life  and  power 
We  share  now  with  each  other, 

Every  hour! 
Eternal  rapture  sheds  its  peace 

Profound 
Through  all  our  being's  compass; 

Love  is  crowned! 

Love  s  Passion 

is  the  hour  of  Twilight 
When  Love  is  on  the  wing! 

And  all  the  zephyrs  calling, 

And  all  the  birdlets  sing  ! 

My  Love  and  I  are  watching 
The  heavenly  planets  burn, 
And  each  a  kiss  is  stealing, 
And  beg§  one  in  return  ! 


The  "Great  Bear"  tramps  his  circle 

Enchained  about  "The  Pole," 

And  I'm  her  "dear  gruff  tyrant" 

(Because  I'm  hunger-whole  I 

Because  I  spare  no  moment. 
Nor  leave  unkissed  one  spot— 
So  tight  my  strong  arms  bind  her, 
Upon  my  heart  so  hot.) 

The  Pleiads  dance  and  sparkle 

Like  swarms  of  fireflies; 

They  match  the  twinkling  mischiefs 

That  swim  within  her  eyes  ! 
Arcturus  in  his  glory 
Has  bent  his  graceful  bow. 
Her  eyelids  tell  the  story 
She  lightly  lets  me  know  ! 

I  think  that  Cupid's  arrow 

Is  strained  across  that  string. 

For  darts  shoot  through  my  marrow 

— I  feel  her  glances  fling 

And  up  there  Venus  watching 
Gleams  down  with  heavenly  breast; 
Her  sparks  and  flames  are  catching 
And  give  our  hearts  no  rest ! 

Orion  has  a  falchion 
Upon  his  glorious  groins ! 
My  Love — an  angel's  cradle 
Rocked  in  her  pretty  loins ! 

What  shall  I  do  for  sighing 

When  Heaven  rebukes  my  fear? 

ril  wed  my  Love  by  starlight — 

This  is  the  Time  of  year  ! 


- 


TYJ 

m*.,/ 


Love's  Canticle 

^r'r  was  my  Love's  sweet  spirit, 
-      I  heard  at  midnight  call ; 

He  came  on  wings  of  longing, 
I  gave  him  all  my  all! 

The  angels  fair  from  heaven, 

They  loaned  him  their  bright  wings, 
And  so  he  reached  my  bosom, 

And  all  ray  being  sing*! 

Now  tell  me  maidens  tender, 
Did  ye  not  hear  him  come? 

He  clasped  my  form  so  slender, 
He  dwelt  within  my  room. 

Ah,  vain  and  foolish  virgins! 

Your  lamps  of  life  are  dry ; 
Your  chalice  dark  is  empty 

When  Love  and  Life  draw  nigh ! 

But  he  and  I  are  spirits, 

And  htaren  is  hsre  bolow! 
And  all  the  seraphs  know  it! 

And  Love  and  I  do  know! 


The  True  Wife 


nEART  filled,  to  the  brim! 
I  have  received  of  him 
Heaven's  pure  bliss! 
Bowed  to  his  Spirit's  sway! 
Glad  in  his  arms  I  lay ! 
Wed  with  his  kiss! 

Into  my  life  has  come 

Joy,  child  and  happy  home; 

All  that  I  ask! 
What  shall  I  give  him  back? 
All  that  his  life  may  lack 

For  his  world  task. 

Hold  up  his  tired  head; 
Smooth  lay  his  pillowed  bed; 

Sweet  spread  his  food ; 
Sing  away  brooding  care ; 
Kiss  straight  his  tangled  hair ; 

Fill  him  with  good ! 

This  be  my  task,  as  "Wife," 
Through  his  heroic  life— 

Loyal  to  now! 

Cheer  him  to  help  mankind ; 
Rescue  the  deaf  and  blind; 

String  strong  his  bow ! 

Chill  not  one  throb  of  heart ; 
Ne'er  from  his  side  depart; 

Ne'er  fail  his  faith! 
This  be  my  joy  and  pride! 
Safe  shall  my  love  abide— 

Constant  through  d«atk! 


Pregnancy 


L  blow  the  zephyrs  in  the  July  heat, 
When,  fresh  with  dawn,  the  dew  has  wet  the 
grass; 
From   sleep  refreshed   and  dreams  both  light  and 

sweet, 

In  quiet  consonance  the  still  morns  pass; 
Till  noon  shuts  to  the  blind, 

And  Nature's  hush 
Tempers  with  fingers  kind, 
The  rough  world's  rush. 

There  in  a  shelter  from  the  troubl'ous  mart, 

Withdrawn  from  turmoil  and  in  greenwood  shade, 
The  "Love  Child"  nestles,  close  beside  the  heart, 
That  fairies  put  there,  and  the  good  God  made; 
There  in  its  cradled  bed, 

In  silent  bliss, 
With  heartsease  fed- 
Born  with  a  kiss! 

How  shall  I  step — with  tiptoe,  softly  light 

Enough  to  shield  from  shock  the  mother  mild? 
Lean  on  my  arm,  sweet  angel,  cool  and  white, 
And  let  the  father  bear  thee,  with  thy  tender  child. 
Rest  in  the  hammock's  arm; 
Hearken  the  robin's  note; 
Hushed  are  the  hums  of  farm 
That  to  us  float. 

How  shall  I  measure  all  the  great  gift's  grace? 
How  shall  I  treasure  every  throbbing  pulse? 
Watching  with  anxious  eye  the  dear  young  face, 
And  every  jarring  accident  repulse? 
So  let  the  sovereign  power 

Of  mighty  Pan, 
Shelter  each  holy  hour — 
He  only  can ! 


Warm  is  the  pregnant  year,  and  thou  ray  precious 

bride 

Knoweth  Life's  inward  bliss,  Her  rapture  deep ! 
Thee  shall  her  wings  enfold,  thy  gentle  secret  hide, 
And  brood  upon  thee  with  Her  quiet  sleep. 
Ye,  two,  with  Mother's  loves, 

God  keep  from  harm! 
And  guard  His  spotless  doves 
Safe  in  His  arm ! 


Harvest  Moon 


I  saw  the  full  moon  round, 
With  winter  spicules  silvery  bright; 
(The  wind  blew  soft  o'er  frozen  ground, 
The  woodlands,  stark,  were  full  of  light; 


The  mountains  vast  were  gray  and  wan. 

The  valley's  mystic  depths  were  blue:) 
She  swam  up  like  a  white-winged  swan, 

And  'cross  her  breast  the  cloudlets  flew. 


I  bound  my  great-coat  'round  my  form, 
I  watched  her  as  the  night  rolled  by ; 

With  kindly  warning  'gainst  the  storm 
She  drew  a  Great  Ring  'round  the  sky. 

A  Wheel  of  Wonder,  star  begemmed, 
And  She  the  glorious  Axle  round ; 

With  Love's  great  circlet  diademed, 
Aud  with  his  golden  chaplets  crowned  I 


One  Instant 


me  no  troth  in  cold  water  ! 
Quaff  me  the  bright  wine  that  cheers! 
Better  alive  for  one  evening, 

Than  dead  for  a  decade  of  years  ! 

Say  but  one  word,  that  you  love  me; 

One  that  shall  banish  all  fears! 
Best  be  a  bird  for  one  morning, 

Than  worm  for  a  cycle  of  years. 

Grant  me  one  kiss-though  it  kill  me! 

-One  that  shall  brighten  all  tears! 
Best  be  complete-till  Life  fill  thee, 

Than  void  for  a  thousand  of  years! 

Breathe  through  my  being  one  poem! 

Make  me  but  one  of  God's  seers! 
Best  be  a  God  for  one  moment 

Than  -motut  for  a  million  of  years  ! 

Thrill  through  my  spirit  one  rapture, 

Music  eternity  hears! 
Best  be  Dirine—for  one  instant— 

Than  mortal  ten  billion  of  years! 


CO1 


Aucassin  and  Nicolette 


(Lovelay  of  Old  Provence.) 

sunlight  fills  the  south  of  France, 
And  peasants  with  King  Rene  dance, 
Then  soft  and  sweet  the  lay  was  sung 
How  troth  was  kept — when  Love  was  young 
(Though  eyelids  droop,  and  cheeks  grow  wet 
For  "Aucassin  and  Nicolette"). 

How  she  was  woodman's  daughter  fair 
Whom  he,  the  Prince,  loved  to  despair  ! 
The  King  was  wroth,  the  courtiers  scowl, 
The  black  priests  curse  with  bell  and  cowl, 
The  Prince  holds  fast,  and  lets  them  fret; 
Nor  will  he  yield  his  Nicolette  ! 

They  cast  him  in  a  dungeon  low. 

And  swear  he'll  "ne'er  to  heaven  go  !" 
"Do  you  go  there?"  he  asks  with  wit: 
"Is  that  the  place  where  such  folks  fit? 

Then  let  me  go  where  you  don't  get, 
-With  Love  and  Life,  and  Nicolette!" 

They  take  from  him  his  titles  all, 
And  threat  that  direst  woes  befall. 

"You  must  some  courtly  dame  espouse 

And  give  us  revel  and  carouse. 
For  if  you  don't,  we'll  hang  you  yet; 
And,  also,  that  young  Nicolette  !" 

But  hark  !    The  people  rise,  en  masse  ! 
(For  Love,  you  know,  brings  things  to  pass!) 

They  fling  the  King  and  courtiers  out ! 

The  cringing,  cursing  monks  they  flout ! 
Their  brave  young  Prince  on  throne  is  set 
And  crowned  their  King— with  Nicolette ! 


Memory 

I  should  fly  to  be  a  star, 
Wouldst  thou,  dear,  watch  me  from  afar. 
And  be  to  me  what  here  you  are — 
My  sympathy? 

Wouldst  thou  raise  eyes,  bedewed,  to  Heaven 
When  daylight  drooped,  at  tender  even', 
And  pray  that  some  day  thou  be  given 
My  destiny? 

Wouldst  thou  behold  those  circles  far 

On  which  I  rode — each  dazzling  bar — 
And  ask  to  join  my  seraph  car — 
Infinity? 

Wouldst  thou,  upon  the  crumbling  earth. 

Where  once  my  image  had  its  birth, 
Plant  some  fair  vine  to  clasp,  by  worth, 
Eternity? 

And  breathe  into  the  passing  air 

The  incense  of  a  spirit  fair 
That  lives  for  thee,  Love,  everywhere, 
In  ecstasy? 


L'Aille  Volanh 


ON  flying  wing 
I  soar  and  sing, 
Nor  ever  rest  for  home! 
Over  the  seas 
I  seek  no  ease, 

I  cross  above  the  foam ! 


No  gentle  nest 

May  warm  my  breast, 

I  must  be  on  the  wing! 
Though  heart  should  break, 
And  brain  should  ache, 

I'm  doomed  to  fly  and  sing! 

Over  the  land, 
On  every  hand. 

I  herald  in  the  Day! 
Bird  of  the  Morn, 
The  night  I  scorn, 

I  may  not  sleep  nor  play ! 

See — on  ray  plume, 
The  iris  bloom; 

It  is  the  breath  of  Spring ! 
Awake!     Awake! 
The  shadows  break 

Before  my  skyward  wing ! 

Into  my  home 
I,  too,  shall  come, 

Toward  the  closing  year ; 
My  course  well  run, 
Beyond  the  sun 

My  Bride  and  Rest  appear! 

There  in  the  Breast 
Of  Love,  at  rest, 

I  shall  no  longer  roam ; 
Clasped  in  Her  peace 
My  task  shall  cease, 

In  Paradise  my  Home  ! 


Th?  Last  Sw; 


|T|HY  beat  against  the  night  winds  dark, 
*A*      The  mountain  lone,  the  somber  plains? 
My  very  heart-beats  hunters  hark — 
My  plumage  damp  with  winter  rains  ! 

I  hear  the  lone  loon  call  afar; 

The  sad  moon  dips  her  shallow  cup ; 
The  tides  are  "out,"  with  bare  a  star; 

The  sands  have  drunk  my  lakelets  up ! 

What  good  am  I,  a  waste  swan  white, 
That  sings  a  last  song  to  the  year? 

What  use  to  beat  against  the  night, 

And  wander  through  the  chill  wind  drear? 

I'll  hie  me  to  that  silent  nook 

Where  dip  the  reeds  and  hush  the  airs ; 
A  nest  that  every  hope's  forsook, 

And  build  it  of  my  dark  despairs  ! 

I'll  quaff  me  there  my  last  of  woes, 
And  sink  my  song  beneath  my  wing; 

And  when  I'm  whiter  than  the  snows, 
They'll  find  my  Spirit— in  the  Spring ! 


Longing  and  Flight 


O'LY  with  me  !  Fly  with  me  !  Into  the  West, 
Into  the  west — as  the  sun  goes  down  ! 
Each  in  the  bosom  that  it  loves  best, 
To  a  couch  of  roses  and  eider  down ! 

There  in  long  slumber  to  droop  to  rest, 
Where  only  the  Ocean  hears  our  moan! 


O !  for  a  skiff  by  its  margin  grand  ! 

O  for  the  blade  of  a  magic  oar ! 
O  for  Love's  breezes  to  sweep  the  strand, 
That  waft  to  the  long  sought  farther  shore! 
There  on  the  pebbles,  in  peace  to  sleep, 
Lulled  by  the  murmur  of  deep  to  deep  ! 

Only  the  lover  knows  the  way 

Over  the  mountains  to  that  fond  shore ! 
Only  Love's  eyelids  ope'  to  the  Day 
That  heralds  the  Kingdom  of  "Evermore!" 
Hasten !  O  hasten  Sweet  Spirit  of  Grace! 
Come  at  Love's  call  to  the  Human  Race! 


Eagles 


X  RESTED  on  a  grassy  knoll 
Where  man  had  toiled  and  Time  rolled 

by; 

I  saw  the  passive  mountain  old, 
And  watched  the  eagles  in  the  sky. 

The  Mountain  said:    "My  son,  take | heed; 

From  age  to  age  the  Truth  endures!" 
The  Eagle  said :    "My  son,  bespeed ! 

The  Spirit  calls,  the  sky  is  yours!" 

I  laid  me  down  ray  mantle  old 

Of  flesh,  beneath  the  mountain  sod ; 

The  crystals  kept  it  pure  and  cold, 
And  o'er  it  bloomed  the  golden-rod. 

But  as  I  rose  and  glanced  on  high — 
A  lamp  of  seven  candles  white  ! 

On  eagle  wings  I  clove  the  sky 

And  passed  forever  from  the  night ! 


Dove  Wings 


,  had  I  the  wings  of  a  dove, 
I  would  fly  !    I  would  fly  ! 
Till  I  came  to  the  Bosom  of  Love  ! 

On  its  breast,  on  its  breast  I  would  lie  ! 
And  never  again  would  I  roam 
From  my  rest,  from  my  haven,  my  home  ! 

Oh,  had  I  the  wings  of  a  dove, 

So  silvered,  so  spotless,  so  white  ! 
I  would  fly  the  sad  world  far  above, 
Till  I  came  to  the  Fountain  of  Light ! 

There,  safe  from  false  Fashion's  allure, 
I  would  bathe  in  those  billows  so  pure  ! 

Oh,  had  I  the  wings  of  a  dove, 

So  tender,  so  gentle,  so  kind  ! 
I  would  cease  o'er  earth's  deserts  to  rove, 
And  leave  all  its  sorrows  behind. 

I  would  follow  the  song  of  the  lark 
Till  I  came  to  my  Home  in  the  Ark ! 

Borne  upward,  borne  onward  by  Faith, 

No  longer  the  buffet  of  wind, 

No  longer  the  puppet  of  Death, 

No  longer  afflicted  nor  blind ; 

I  would  droop,  with  my  pinions  so  weak, 
And  nestle,  at  rest,  by  Love's  cheek  ! 


Th?  Visitor 


^•M-'  DREAMED  I  lived  long  ages  past 
--^      Within  a  star  of  prior  night. 
It  bore  me  while  the  shades  did  last 
Before  the  morning  come  to  light! 
I  knew  its  cerements  hung  damp 
About  my  brow,  around  my  form; 
And  though  I  bore  an  angel's  lamp 
It  tossed  me  in  the  arms  of  storm ! 

Away!  away!     I  cannot  wait! 

I  bring  thee  joy— or  bring  thee  harm— 
'Tis  thou  must  say,  for  it  is  late. 
And  midnight  wraps  me  in  her  arm ! 
I  must  be  gone  to  whence  I  came ; 
I  have  my  tryst  with  those  that  gleam; 
My  song  is  sung;  my  heart  is  lame; 
And  earth  is  but  an  hour's  dream  ! 

There  is  one  soul,  perchance,  who  flings 

(As  far  across  the  stars  in  flight 
I  plume  and  spread  a  wanderer's  wings) 
Some  farewell — through  the  coming  night. 
Perchance-who  knows-had  it  but  stayed 
The  drooping  flight,  the  restless  hour, 
The  goodbye  might  have  been  delayed. 
The  spirit  found  again  its  power ! 

Soft  sinks  the  twilight  o'er  the  plain ; 

The  moonlight  floods  the  mountain  round : 
Good  bye!  I  may  come  back  again 

In  springbuds  and  in  birdlings'  sound ! 

But  thou — O  soul !  that  loved  me  once — 
Where  wilt  thou  be,  should  I  but  call? 
— In  colors  of  autumnal  months? 
—In  rainbow— or  in  waterfall? 


Dante  and  Beatrice 


-IT'  STAGGERED  through  a  vale  of  tears — 
-•*-»  My  poet  led — I  trembling  stepped! 
He  was  God's  spirit,  thro'  the  years, 
And  knew  (how  deeply !)  why  I  wept. 

His  arm  was  wrapped  around  my  form, 
And  held  me  up  through  every  storm. 

I  drank  the  shades  of  Erebus, 

And  walked  quite  through  the  vale  of  death ! 

And  ah !  how  sadly  did   discuss 

With  him,  the  sights  that  caught  my  breath! 
—'Till  far  beyond  its  smoke  and  fires 
He  brought  me  to  my  soul's  desires. 

For  now  there  burst  upon  my  eyes 
The  lights  of  meadows  Asphodel ! 
I  heard  the  songs  of  Paradise, 
And  clasped  the  form  I  loved  so  well ! 

While  all  around,  the  birdlets  sing ! 

And,  alway,  flowers  immortal  bloom  ! 

And  Beatrice  gives  me  her  ring 

Because  her  Love  fills  all  the  room! 

II  Paradise 

^<HE  gates  of  pearl  and  glory, 
^•s     Are  swinging  wide  apart ! 
I  see  the  fond  old  story, 
Two  lovers — heart  to  heart! 

They  pass  far  into  Heaven 
Beside  bright  crystal  streams, 

And  taste  the  sacred  leaven 
That  fed  their  former  dreams! 


They  glide  along  a  terrace 
Of  deathless  floral  bloom; 

They  wander  through  God's  palace 
And  dwell  from  room  to  room ! 

They  clasp  each  others  fingers, 
Entwined  in  Love's  allure; 

They  kiss,  embrace,  and  linger 
In  bliss  forever  sure! 


Head  or  Heart? 


/"XHE  Heart  is  nobler  than  the  Head — 
vl/  Were  this  not  so  the  soul  were  dead  ! 
Tell  me  not— this  or  that  man's  "smart;" 
Earth  needs  more  men  of  nobler  Ihart 
To  lead  a  zealous  life  for  Faith. 
And  by  strong  courage  conquer  Death. 

I  care  not  for  the  brain  of  skill, 
Where  brilliance  leads  so  oft  to  ill : 
The  wily  diplomat — the  chief— 
Whose  deaths  are  but  the  world's  relief; 
Vain  of  their  practice  or  their  sword, 
And  proud  of  dictatorial  word 

Give  us  the  men  of  generous  deed, 

The  friend  proved  true  through  every  need, 

The  love  thats  faithful  to  the  end, 

The  sympathy  that  dares  to  bend. 

Give  us  the  love  of  tenderness, 
That  feels  for  human  life's  distress ; 
Far,  far  above  the  Intellect, 
Such  comradeship  the  God's  elect! 


Homeward 


£-|*ou  may  not  care  for  a  faint,  frail  song, 
^^      Sung  far  up  in  the  tree, 
Where  the  tiptop  branches  quaver 

And  the  winds  blow  wild  and  free; 
But  I  sang  as  I  felt  in  my  sadness 

I  sang  as  I'd  loved  to  roam 
With  the  winds  and  the  waves  in  their  madness, 

And  now  I'm  flying  home! 
With  the  winds  and  the  waves  in  their  gladness 

And  now  I  am  going  home ! 

Perchance  when  the  world  has  grown  silent, 

Its  music  of  fashion  all  gone, 
You  will  hear  from  the  depths  of  your  being 

A  voice  that  is  tender  and  lone. 
It  will  come  from  a  far  off  mountain. 

Where  never  walked  mortal  feet; 
It  will  breathe  of  the  forest  and  fountain, 

And  thrill  with  a  fragrance  complete ; 
It  will  LIVE  in  the  forest  and  fountain. 

And  make  your  life  COMPLETE  ! 


H 


ome 


IX  my  heart,  I  have  a  Home 
*/      All  bright  with  tender  loving  ties; 
There  I  return  —  how'er  I  roam  — 
And  rest  with  gently  shaded  eyes. 

There  Love,  that  passed  to  Heaven  before, 
Returns  to  clasp  my  soul  to  hers, 

And  when  we've  closed  the  senses'  door 
Each  spirit  chord  within  us  stirs. 


We  know  and  hold  each  other's  form, 
We  drink  again  from  spirit  eyes, 

And  safe  against  all  earthly  storm 
We  share  anew  each  heart  surprise. 

There  is  my  Home — Time  cannot  touch 
Nor  wounds  attack  !  nor  evermore 

Can  Earth  provide  another  such 

'Till  we  two  reach  the  Upper  Shove. 


Segments 


jo  long  astray  in  a  world  so  blind  ! 

What  fate  hath  held  them  apart,  un 
kind? 


A  breeze  sweeps  over  the  earth's  wan  face, 
They  see  each  other— they  rush — embrace  ! 
And  a  heavenly  host  looks  down  to  greet 
A  new  born  bliss  in  their  wedding,  meet. 
Henceforth  forever,  howe'er  apart, 
They  are  one  body,  they  are  one  heart ! 


Hush  !  'tis  the  sound  of  the  passing  bell, 
And  a  light  breaks  in  that  lifts  the  spell; 
The  mists  unroll,  the  bars  are  riven — 
They  are  one  soul  and  they  are  in  Heaven  ! 


Hark  how  the  seraphs  stay  their  feet ! 
"They  were  but  Segments-they  are  complete. ' 


Te  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti 


!  from  thy  rich  full  harp  of  Song, 
And   from   thy   Palette's  glow  — all  rainbow 
rayed — 

Thou  showered  thy  gifts  of  Beauty  undismayed 
In  showers  of  splendor — through  thy  whole  life  long  ! 
Apart  and  saddened  by  this  age  decayed 
Thy  Soid  Prevail  fid — Art's  raptures  to  prolong! 

Within  the  silence  of  thy  shadowy  halls 

And  from  that  prave   where  she  who  loved   thee 
slept, 

The  mighty  ghosts  of  Genius  to  thee  crept ! 
Thy  echoing  alcoves  heard  far  angel  calls ! 

Their  voices  sang  the  lines  that  from  thee  lept! 

Their  fingers  flung  those  pictures  on  thy  walls! 

With  him  walked  through  Hell  to  Eden's  Gate, 
And  viewed  (like  John  on  Patmos)  Paradise; 
TTr>,,,  sadly  sweet,  forever  saw  those  eyes 

Beam  down  in  love, — which  at  those  Portals  wait. 
Another  "Dante/*  thou  didst  breathe  thy  sighs 
The  hidden  hunger  of  thy  heart  to  sate. 

Blest  "Gabriel!"   Thy  wings  indeed  were  white 
With  the  wan  glory  of  that  Land  Divine ! 
And,  tho'  thy  mortal  heart  held  Heavenly  wine, 

Thy  face  was  pallid  with  Celestial  Light! 
Thy  "Blessed  l)amozeln— forever  thine! — 
Now  leads  thee  through  those  Higher  HalVs  Delight. 


Thought  and  Action 


Thought  waits   on    Action,    and   the 
Dream 

Is  born  in  going;  and  the  strong  desire 
Comes  as  a  friction  starts  a  flame  of  fire, 

Or  nearness  brings  attraction ;  and  I  ne'er  had  loved 
Had  I  not  risen  first,  and  forward  moved. 

Yet  action  comes  of  thought,  and  loves  to  wait, 
Halting,  as  children  swing  the  garden  gate, 
And  fear  to  venture  forth;  their  mother's  voice 
Sounds  sweet  behind,  commanding  from  the  dust 

and  noise; 

They  know,  if  once  "runover,"  thought  may  come 
to  late ! 

Ah,  once,  when  I  was  young,  'twas  action  brave 

I  sought  and  followed,  and  it  led  ray  heart; 

Now  thought  and  conscience  twined  have  made  me 

slave : 

1  wait  their  tender  summons  to  "arise  and  start." 
Lord,  keep  them  all  so  linked  that  they  may  never 
part! 

And  maybe,  as  I  go,  the  light  will  grow  to  more; 

And  growing  more,  the  braver  shall  I  stride! 

Thought  leads,  but  oft  by  action  is  not  marred. 
Hounds  circle  hunters,  whom  they  scarce  regard, 
And  yet  the  gun  and  voice  their  wayward  motions 
guide. 


Sweet  Wild  Rose 


gLOSE  I  walked  within  the  forest  shade, 
When  all  the  Spring  with  verdure  was  enhanced, 

And  there  within  a  cool  and  silent  glade, 
Upon  a  modest  Wild  Rose,  fair,  I  chanced. 

What  makes  thee,  sweetest  fay,  so  shy  and  lone, 
'Mid  all  the  forest  glories  so  complete? 

Is  it  thy  frail  wan  beauty  —  that  I  own— 
Clinging  so  plaintive  to  my  passing  feet? 

Or  is  it  that  faint  incense  so  divine, 

Wafted  from  heaven  and  caught  within  thy  blush? 
Or  opening  petals  like  ambrosial  wine, 

Or  daintiest  kisses  given  in  evening's  hu-h? 

No!  fondest  flower,  most  chaste,  most  passing  fair  ! 
Casting  thy  heart's  full  rapture  in  one  daylight's 

glow- 
Opening  thy  bosom's  beauty  to  one  Spring  day\ 

air  — 
It  is  because  my  True  Love  lored  thw  so! 

One  Whits  Rose 

p<HR  white,  white  rose!  I  saw  it  bloom, 
•*-*  Beneath  fond  skies,  above  her  tomb. 
It  was  so  frail,  so  pure  and  fair, 
Its  fragrance  melting  on  the  air  : 

Its  form  so  perfect  in  its  grace, 

I  knew  in  it  her  angel  face 

Come  back  to  bless  with  heavenly  bloom. 

It  was  her  spirit  from  the  tomb  ! 

1  bent  and  kissed  it  as  it  grew, 

Its  tender  petals  fair  and  few; 

So  still  in  its  inter 

So  full  of  God's  divinity  ! 

I  knew  her,  in  her  robes  of  white, 
Serene  and  sweet  with  heavenly  li«rht! 


.gel  bright!   ()  spirit  dear  ! 
Come  back,  come  back  forever 

Bend  down  and  bloom  from  year  to  year ! 

Drink  through  thy  root  each  failing  t<  ar 
ed  beside  thee  day  by  day, 

And  slowly  bear  my  grief  away  ; 
And  pour  it  forth  upon  the  wind. 
An  incense  blessed  to  help  mankind 
Up  from  this  slab  of  graven  stone 
To  the  bright  *tep>  of  Jesu-'  thron*- ! 

Passion  Flower 

OHICH  untamed,  untutored  Passion  Flov 
Brimming  thy  cup  of  bliss,  from  hour  to  hour. 
With  honied  nectar  from  the  Day  Star's  fire; 
And  ravishing  the  Spring  Time  with  Desire  ! 

Thy  blood  is  burning  with  full  moon's  lush  heat ! 
Life's  molten  tides  flush  fast— from  head  to  feet ! 
Thy  petals  sway  and  pant  for  Psyche's  b 
Of  raptur  -y  throughout  th     - 

Thou  pourest  Youth's  young  pregnancy  to 

Joy, 

Engulfing  all  Love's  magic — and  its  cloy  ! 
Aflame  through  shuddering  frame,  thou  drinkest 

deep, 
Then  broodest  on  thy  harvest,  in  thy  sleep ! 

Immeasurable  longing  !— ne'er  to  fill 

Nor  satisfy  thy  hunger  with  the  thrill 

Of  Life's  completeness — nor  enough  attained  ! 

Is  there,  forever  more,  some  ffoal  untrained? 

O  Heart  so  infinite!  what  can  Love  do 
To  feast  Life's  longing  and  to  solace  your 
To  ease  the  anguish  of  such  yearning  womb 
Earth  grants  no  Peace — tUl  *hou  hatt  Itspt  th* 


God's  Tokens 

/~\  GENTLE  flowers,  what  shall  we  do 
^-^  To  manifest  our  love  to  you, 
For  all  the  light  and  hope  divine 
That  through  thy  quiet  petals  shine? 

How  long  within  the  winter's  tomb 

Ye  bore  the  silence  and  the  gloom; 

How  long,  with  Faith's  almighty  art, 

Ye've  twined  your  roots  'round  Nature's  heart. 

Yes !  then  She  knew  you  for  Her  own, 
And  broke  the  bonds  of  clod  and  stone; 
Her  soft  breath  breathed  your  incense  sweet; 
Her  Mother  fingers  twined  your  feet. 

Her  Mother's  blood  poured  through  your  frame, 
Her  loving  blush  was  in  your  flame; 
Her  dimples  in  your  tender  smile 
That  all  man's  grief  and  tears  beguile. 

Bloom,  gentle  flowers,  about  her  brow, 
Whose  soul  is  part  of  Nature's  now ; 
Whose  heart  is  God's,  whose  Jove  is  ours, 
And  kisses  us  through  all  His  flowers! 


Ministering  Angel 


Shelley  —  by  the  river's  bank 
Wandering  with  True  Love  for  eternal  mate,  — 
Did  hear  the  Sky  Lark,  as  on  high  it  sank 
Within  the  cloudlands  —  into  Heaven's  gate. 

He  fancied  it   "the  Lark,"  but  well  I  know 

'twas   Love 

With  pinions  broad  and  free,  that  bore  his  soul 
above  ! 

For  once,  beside  the  southland  stream, 

When  nights  were  rich  and  moons  were  full, 
I  walked  in  such  divinest  dream, 
And  clasped  my  angel  beautiful  ! 

The  nightingale,  I  thought,  was  plainting  to 

us  both. 

Dear   Heart!   I   know  now    well,  it  was  our 
tender  troth  ! 

O  moons  so  tremulous,  so  sad! 

O  stars  that  watch  o'er  land  and  sea! 
Bend  low  !  come  close  !  with  whisper  glad, 
And  bring  my  Heart's  Love  back  to  *me  ! 

And   when    across    Life's   shore   I    hear  the 

seraphs  sing 

Let  it  be  her  loved  voice  that  filleth  every 
thing! 

O  earth  so  warm  and  sweet! 
O  skies  so  bright  —  so  blue  ! 
Thy  bliss  with  ours  must  meet 
And  blend  our  lives  with  you! 

We  are   thy   children   frail  —  from   out  Thy 

Heavenly  heart  : 

Great  Nature  fold  us  safe,  in  Love  no  more  to 
part! 


Martha's  Spirit 


I  wandered  by  the  woods  and  waves, 
**s  And  watched  the  summer  sky  burst  pure  and 

bright; 

The  green  banks  that  the  gentle  water  laves 
With  silver  surface  and  with  liquid  light; 

The  wind  went  rustling  through  the  swaying  trees, 
The  birds  sang  blithely  to  the  passing  breeze. 

The  vine  that  clambered  on  the  old  gray  wall ; 

The  nests  that  lurked  in  bushes  by  the  way; 

The  light  boat  dancing,  with  its  bird-wing  sails; 

The  joyous  children  as  they  pranced  at  play; 

O'er  all  the  kindly  earth  there  grew  a  peace  serene, 
And  there,  in  every  spot,  my  True   Love's   form 


Her  face  was  floating  in  the  rosewhite  clouds; 
Her  heavenly  eyes  shone  through  the  azure 'air; 
Her  robes  were  swaying  in  those  leafy  crowds; 
In  golden  grains  end  grasses  waved  her  hair ! 

I  felt  her  fingers  kind  pass  lightly  o'er  my  face; 

I  heard  her  footfall  soft,  in  all  its  grace  ! 

O,  my  Beloved  !   Thou  art  everywhere  to  me, 
Within  each  beauty  that  the  world  contains! 
Though  thou  hast  passed  above,  serene  and  free. 
Thy  loving  presence  all  my  life  sustains ! 

What  would  the  round  world  be  but  some  vast  void 
If  Heaven  and    Hope    should  flee,  Faith    be  de 
stroyed? 


I  trust  the  Lord  of  Life  because,  He  made,  thy  love: 
I  rest  within  His  power  because  He  framed]  thy  fare,: 
The  pure  sky  points  me  to  His  home  above; 
Songbirds  and  flowerets  prove  to  me  His  grace. 
Each  endless  river,  steeped  in  Spring's  perfume, 
Tells  of  Life's  ocean  tides  beyond  the  tomb! 

Each  star  that  twinkles  in  the  twilight  shade; 

Each  morning  rising  on  the  darkened  night; 

Each  lark-song  bursting  from  the  quiet  glade; 

Proclaim  "At  eventide  it  shall  be  light!" 

When  pain  is  past  and  griefs  try  hearts  no  more, 
Immortal   Love   shall    fold   us  on  Life's  brighter 
shore. 

To  Martha  in  Heaven 

s  CHRIST  TIDE!  O  Beloved!     The  winter  moon 
Broodeth  through  the  trellised  branches  of  the 

night! 

The  forest  slumbers,  and  the  low  stars  swoon, 
And  dip  their  diamond  tapers  toward  the  Light ! 

I  may  not  sleep !     On  wan  St.  Agnes'  eve — 
(Startled  by  kindled  fancies — dreams  amaze! — ) 
When    yearning    Porphyro   pierced    to   Madeline's 

bower, 

Then  she  did  clasp  him  at  that  midnight  hour, 
Within  the  sculptured  cloister's  winding  ways, 
And  led  him  forth  to  endless  happy  days ! 

So  doth  my  soul,  this  night,  that  witchery  feel; 
And  seeks  thee  through  the  sadness  of  each  cloud! 
Up  through  the  spaces  blue  my  fond  steps  steal ! 
And,  ghost-like,  wander — calling  thee  aloud : 
— Until  poor  mortal  senses  taint  and  reel ! 

iW  (over) 


Come  to  me — ever  nearer — O  BelovM  ! 
And  breathe  on  me  with  breath  of  Love  again  ! 
Be  with  me,  evermore,  to  heal  heart-pain ! 
And  draw  me,  by  thy  fingers,  up  to  GOD! 
Fan  thy  soft  wings,  to  dry  my  tears  sad  rain, 
Until,  through  Heaven's  Portal  mounts  our  road 

O'er  lilied  snowflakes,  on  the  winter's  plain, 
Night's  magic  lines  are  graven  on  its  face, 
All  woven  in  with  moonbeams  interlace 
And  flecked  with  faery  phantoms  dappled  stain! 
So  on  thy  Angel  bosom's  fair  white  grace 
Eternal  are  my  Hopta  and  Longings  lain! 

Th?  Passing  Years 

/5»EE  the  years  go  swimming  by 
**-^     Like  the  waters  of  a  stream! 

As  the  moonlight  shadows  fly 
O'er  the  surface  of  a  dream! 

As  the  moose  steals  through  the  grass, 
As  the  hunter's  light  canoe, 
So  our  pilgrimages  pass, 

And  our  forms  are  lost  to  view ! 

O  thou  Wanderer,  on  thy  way — 
Heed  the  warning  of  the  year ! 
Heed  what  all  the  ages  say 
As  they  sadly  disappear! 

"Only  Love  cannot  be  lost! 
Only  Truth  can  never  die! 
Hold  them  fast  at  any  cost. 
In  Immortal  Sympathy!" 

100 


Oversoul 


:ET  Oversoul,  from  ail  about  me  stealing 
Thy  deep  aroma  and  thine  incense  fine, 
I  feel  Thy  glorious  life's  intense  revealing 

Thy  matchless  fragrance   and  thy  richest  wine. 

What  though  the  zephyrs,  through  the  nightwatch 
failing, 

Sink  into  faintness  through  my  sad  heart  lone? 
What  though  I  know  my  form  is  worn  and  ailing, 

My  Love  harks  deeper  to  its  Undertone. 

I  know  its  quiet  minor  chords  are  breaking 
With  the  dull  anguish  of  a  lot  forlorn ; 

Through  all  its  reeds  I  hear  the  night  wind  shaking, 
The  mournful  music  that  I  knew  when  I  was  born. 


Why  was  I  cast  upon  the  shore  of  Time,  forsaken, 
With  Love's  deep  hunger  gnawing  at  my  heart? 

Oh,  for  the  soul  that  was  my  own  soul's  making, 
The  long  sought  spirit  kept,  in  pain,  apart ! 

Come  thou !  with  kiss  the  keener  for  the  waiting ; 

Drink  up  my  life  with  ecstacy  more  vast ! 
Deep  unto  deep,  the  thirst  of  true  love  slaking, 

Fed  with  a  fullness  that  shall  ever  last ! 


101 


Consolation 

^-r*  HEAR  the  Spring  bird  fling  his  strain 

-*-      Into  the  teeth  of  Winter  and  the  night; 

I  hear  the  woodbrooks  rippling  on  again, 

And  note  the  robin  on  his  northward  flight. 

"To  thee,  sad  soul,  this  sign  the  good  God  gives; 

Awake  thy  faith  and  know  that  'thy  Redeemer 
lives!'" 

The  buds  are  breaking  on  the  moss-grown  tree, 

The  tangled  tarn  is  sparkling  to  the  light; 
A  softer  wind  is  sighing  down  the  lea, 

And  thro'  the  frost  the  snowdrop  struggles  bright. 
"Brave  heart,  how  canst  thou  fail  that  thus  thy 

nature  grieves, 

When  all  Gods's  nature  cries,  'Thy  great  Redeemer 
lives?'  " 

Within  a  grass-grown  mound  my  Love  lies  sleeping 

still; 
My  tears  have  mingled  there  with  every  floweret's 

root! 

"But 'twas  her  body's  dust,  her  soul  has  risen  to  fill 
Its  place  in  seraph  bands  about  the  Saviour's  foot; 
And,  now  with  them,  she  knows  Him  whom  her 

faith  believes. 
Awake  thy  harp  of  Hope !  Her  great  Redeemer  lives! 

Hear !  o'er  the  echoing  hills  their  angel  choirs  come ! 
Hark  !  in  the  soul's  still  ear,  her  voice  so  far  and 

sweet ! 

Glance  to  that  starry  host  that  is  her  happy  home, 
And  see  the  loved  ones  gone  that  there  her  pres 
ence  greet ! 

Her  God  that  gave  such  love,  is  not  one  that  de 
ceives; 
She  says,    'Be  strong!   /  know  that  our  Redeemer 


Human  Need 


I  NEED  thee — Love  in  Life! 
Each  thought  and  will, 
Each  hope — to  fill; 
And  still  all  strife  ! 

I  need  thy  gentle  hand 
To  calm  each  pain; 
Bright  faith  to  gain 

Into  the  Better  Land  ! 

What  time  I  wait 

And  wander  through 

Each  trial  new 
To  Heaven's  Gate — ! 

One  is  so  weak— 

Alone — below ! 

So  let  me  know 
The  Soul  I  seek! 

Far  speed  my  sighs 

Out  of  the  heart ! 

God  sees  them  ;dart 
Through  His  clear  skies  ! 

They  enter  Heaven ! 

No  more  withheld, 

The  Peace  of  Eld 
Is  freely  given  ! 


I  .M 


Sheaves 


>|*HEX  plovers  pipe,  and  the  year  is  ripe, 
^^      And  color  floods  the  mellow  leaves; 
We  do  not  fear  for  the  fading  year, 
We  gather  in  the  harvest  sheaves. 

The  wild  wind  grieves 

And  the  sea  bereaves, 
But  we  store  up  the  golden  sheaves  ! 

Old  age  is  bright  when  the  heart  is  light, 

And  Love  builds  under  the  old  home  eaves. 
By  the  long  life-strain,  and  the  brave  heart's 

pain, 

We  gather  up  the  harvest  sheaves ! 
By  deeds  well  done 
And  faith  that's  won, 
We  gather  up  the  golden  sheaves  ! 

O  God  of  Grace  with  a  Mother's  face, 

Thanks  for  the  hope  that  the  soul  receives; 
For  the  love  we  own,  and  the  dear  ones  gone; 
Thou  gatherest  Thy  golden  sheaves  ! 
On  Thy  broad  Breast  warm, 
With  Thy  great  kind  Arm, 
Thou  gatherest  Thy  Golden  Sheaves  ! 


November 


/arrRANGE  Friend,  how  com'st  thou  with  thy  pallor 

keen, 
To  chill  the  warm,  sweet  breeze  that  summer  evening 

fanned? 

"Doest  thou  not  know  I  ripen  all  things  green, 
And  with  my  sickle  ope'  the  seed  cells  to  the  land? 

"The  pure  white  snow  my  blanket  is,  so  warm  ! 
It  shelters  them  from  frost  and  fertilizes  earth ; 
Each  sparkling  crystal  gem  shall  keep  the  germ  from 

harm, 
And,  in  each  bud  of  beauty,  shall  awake  to  birth  ! 

"When  once  again  the  heart  of  Springtime  woos  the 
wind, 

And,  softened  by  the  storm,  the  mellow  mold  un 
folds; 

Out  of  the  ice  and  rain,  the  Winter  shall  prove  kind , 

And  thou  shalt  clasp  again  thy  loved  ones,  as  of  old." 


So  shall  my  heart   rejoice,  though  seated,  sad  and 

lone, 

Beside  the  silent  hearth,  while  tender  tear  drops  fall. 
Mother  of  Christ !    Thou  knew  the  pang  that  clove 

the  bone, 
And  yet,  in  Heavenly  Light  Thou  claspest  all  in  all! 


Affliction 

O  PREGNANT  sorrow  of  the  heart 
That  hides  itself  with  poignant  art 
And  like  the  spartan  fox  of  old 
Gnaws  out  the  life — beneath  the  fold 
Of  our  poor  dumb  humility ; 
And  eats  out  its  tranquility  ! 

How  is  the  earth  grown  dark  and  bare ! 
I  clasp  one  little  lock  of  hair — 
One  little  glove — a  fold  of  lace — 
A  kiss-worn  image  of  her  face; 
Down  which  my  tears  forever  flow 
With  heart-break's  surging  undertow! 

What  is  the  world  now,  with  its  blind 
And  dreary  wastes? — so  little  kind 
— Its  deserts  where  the  spirit  faints 
And  for  life's  cool  spring  water  plaints! 
— Love's  green  oasis  in  the  glow! 
— Life's  one  true  rest  on  earth  below! 

0  to  lie  down  beyond  the  heat, 
Alone,  apart,  at  True  Love's  feet! 
To  droop  the  hot  brow  on  her  breast 
And  in  its  murmured  soothings  rest ! 
To  see  the  soft  light,  from  her  eyes 
Look  down  like  stars  from  Paradise ! 

What  shall  I  do,  now,  blind  and  stark 
Staggering  into  the  future's  dark? 

1  hear  the  night  birds,  lone  and  shrill, 
And  the  sad  weep  of  whippo'will. 

I  catch  the  dull  plash  of  the  river, 

And  the  cold  wind,  with  evening  shiver ! 

O  Love  Divine  that  stooped  to  earth 
And  brought  to  us  Thy  "Second  Birth," 


Didst  Thou  not  bear  Thy  cross  alone, 
Thy  thorn  crown,  and  Thy  dull  tombstone? 
— Yet  angels  bright  sat  at  the  door 
Where  Thy  bruised  corse  had  lain  before  ! 

Didst  Thou  not  rise — in  light  serene 

As  winter  yields  to  springtime  green? 

Didst  Thou  not  cast  thy  cerements, 

Revealing  thy  sublime  Intents ; 

And  out  of  darkness  bring  the  light ; 

And  from  the  earth  mold  came  forth — white? 


Ixion 

iytfHAT  is  Love's  crime,  that  it  must  ever  be 
^A/  Broken  upon  the  wheels  of  destiny? 
Saint  Catherine's  body — ever  bent,  bereaved  ! 
Sweet  Christ's — alas,  so  often  still,  deceived ! 

What  is  the  Heart's  complaint,  that  it  must  know 
The  joy,  the  sorrow,  and  the  thoughtless  blow, 
The  bitter  sweet,  the  thorn  crown's  little  ruth, 
The  cross  that  goes  before  till  this  spell — Truth? 

What  is  Love's  fault  that  it  must  ever  show 
A  smiling  face  where  lurks  the  smothered  woe? 
While,  bearing  all,  it  knows  not  how  to  rise 
Nor  hide  the  stifled  anguish  of  its  eyes ! 

What  has  it  done — that  it  must  ever  share 

The  world's  wan  strain — its  midnight — its  despair — 

Its  tempest  toss — its  path  so  little  clear 

Enveiled  in  shrouding  mists  of  Doubt  and  Fear? 

Brave  Love!  we  know  not  where,  nor  when,  nor  why, 
But  still  we  follow  Thee— until  we  die  ! 
We  welcome  humbling  scorn — the  blow — the  pain — 
So  be  it  Thou  but  lead,  till  Heaven  we  gain  ! 


Lived  ahd  Loved 

£>o  bye !  old  World !  with  all  thy  glittering  train  ! 
**-*  Thou  canst  not  lure  me  to  thy  glare  again  ! 
I  know  the  muddy  wheels  of  thy  gross  rumbling  cart 
That  grinds  to  death  the  human  Brain  and  Heart  ! 

Go  bye,  cold  world!  I've  seen  thy  falseness 

proved! 

But  know  this  as  thou  goest:  Lof  I'VE  LIVED! 
AXD  LOVED! 

What  care  I  for  the  ashes  of  thy  feverish  fires? 
Thy  vain  conceits?  thy  ravenous  desires? 
Thine  idle  chaff  that  blinds  the  vision's  ray 
From  all  the  Glories  of  Celestial  Day 

Bright     streaming    through     the  sou),    from 

Heaven  above  ? 

Thou  canst  pass  on!    7V«  ItmrtuJ  f.o  LIVK  A.\J> 
LOVE! 

Alas! — I've  seen  thee  rob  the  widows"  mite; 
And  slay  the  children  in  thy  headlong  flight; 
And  grasp  from  home  and  husbandmen  their  grain ; 
And  crush  Life's  flowerets  by  th^  blighting  rain; 

And  drive  God's  priests  and  prophets  forth  to 
rove, 

His  poets  left  to  starve — for  Life  and  Love ! 

A  curse  upon  thy  ravin  !  O  thou  fool! 
Who  killeth  Christ  to  please  the  devil's  tool ! 
Yet  know  the  day  of  Doom  hastes  swiftly  on  ! 
Their  blood  is  on  thy  hands ! — thine  hour  is  come  ! 

The  tempest  and  the  storm  haste  swift  to  move ! 

And  thou  hast  lost  thy  Key — to  Life  and  Love! 


Th?  Latter  Raih 

y|\Y  gentle  flowers  drooped  and  pined 

^     Through  the  long  drought,  while  hot 

winds  fanned 

Those  tender  buds  I'd  striven  to  mind, 
And  those  bright  rows  so  deftly  planned. 

The  roses  paled,  the  violets  fled, 

The  jonquils  failed,  the  pansies  died; 

They  slept  by  my  Beloved  Dead, 
And  over  them  the  sad  wind  sighed. 

Dear  Lord,  that  gave  them  all  to  me, 
The  fair,  the  fragrant,  and  the  dear, 

Didst  Thou  not  all  my  labor  see, 

And  count  and  weigh  each  falling  tear? 

Behold  them  watered  with  my  grief, 
My  heart's  deep  fount  of  bitter  pain; 

Salt  streams  that  gave  such  scant  relief 
And  died  at  source — to  fall  again  ! 


But  what  are  these  that  gently  fall 
Upon  the  parched  and  thirsty  sodr 

Sweet  drops  of  rain  Thy  grace  recall ! 
Surely  they  are  the  Taartt  of  (,'o<t ! 

Yea,  now  I  know  Thou  weepest,  too, 
And  hearest  every  human  heart; 

For  lo,  the  desert  smiles  anew, 

And  blooms  with  Thy  consoling  Art ! 


109 


«  Flower  that  Follows  the  Storm 


("Look  to  the  flower  that  blooms  in  the  Silenc.e 
lh.it  follows  the  storm."— E.  Indian  Bible.) 


N  the  Flower  that  follows  the  storm, 

In  the  silence  that  drops  after  rain, 

Thou  shalt   bloom   O   my  Soul!  and   grow 

warm! 

Thou  shalt  rise  to  thy  sunlight  again ! 
In  the  darkness  that  follows  the  day. 
In  the  loneliness  after  the  lost, 
Thou  shalt  find,  by  God's  wisdom,  "the  Way!" 
Thou  shalt  know  what  the  Pathway  has  cost! 

Thou  shalt  clasp  all  those  martyrs  for  Truth! 
All  those  hearts  that  have  broken  for  Love! 
Thou  shalt  taste  of  their  rapture — their  ruth! 
Thou  shalt  join  in  their  anthem  Above  I 
Thou  shalt  bind  to  thy  bosom  their  bands ! 
On  thy  brow  their  faint  kisses  shalt  feel! 
Shalt  embrace  with  thy  fingers  their  hands! 
At  their  altar  thy  Spirit  shalt  kneel! 

And  aloft — on  thy  forehead — thy  hair- 
In  the  gloom  and  the  gloaming  of  night — 
Shalt   be  breathed   their  Brave  Voices — in 

Prayer! 

And,  before  thee,  the  darkness  grows  bright! 
Sweet  "Flowers-that-Follow-the-Stormf" 
Soft  Voices!  bright  rays  through  the  rain! 
Yf  shall  rest  in  my  Soul  and  grow  warm! 
+\or  shalt  smile,  nor  shalt  whisper  in  vain' 


110 


immortal  Change 


^Tr*  HEAR  the  great  Apostle  standing  by  the  grave 
•**•*  Of  the  Beloved  and  Gone,  majestic,  calm,  and 

brave; 

His  flooding  eyes,  serene,  shine  up  to  heavenly  host; 

His  aching-  heart  bends  low  to  the  Beloved  and  Lost; 

His  Voice  fills  space — where  the  Eternal  Stars 

are  ranged; 

"Not  all  of  us  shall  'sleep'!  — but  we  shall  all 
be  * 'changed!'  ' 

A  form,  terrestrial,  mankind  doth  wear  below, 
As  through  the  fields  of  pain  his  feeble  steps  must  go ; 
But  brighter  far  than  mortal  tongue  can  tell, 
Await,  our  certain  coming,  " Forma  Celestial ! " 

Heart  is  not  lost  to  heart;  nor  love  from  love 

estranged ! 

Not  all  of  us  shall  "sleep,"  but  we  shall  all  he 
"changed ! " 

The  Tide-of-Life  must  set  in  ever  Grander  Flow! 
Still  Higher  Heavenly  Harmony  the  soul  must  know ! 
More  pregnant  Visions  wait  the  constant  eye  of  Faith ! 
Life  floods  to  Larger  Life  !    Th«re*is  no  anch  thing  as 

Death! 
Each  precious  seed,  in  soil,  its  brief  "decay" 

hath  feigned  ! 

Not  all  of  us  shall  "sleep"  — but  we  shall  all  be 
"changed .'" 

This  mighty  Mystery,  O  man!  to  thee  I  show: 
The  ROSE  is  not  the  Dust,  but  by  the  Dust  doth  GROW  ! 
Transfused,  transformed  within,  to  wzr  Higher  Bloom, 
It  leaves,  behind,  its  husk,  to  darkness  and  the  tomb! 
It  spreads  its  petals  forth — to  PERFECT  BEAUTY 

gained ! 

Not  all  of  us   shall  "sleep" — but  we  shall  all 
be  "changed!" 

Ill 


Those  Forms  Celestial 


thou  the  bright  buds  on  the  tree, 
That  bloom  from  out  Infinity? 
Seest  thou  the  flower  and  tender  fruit 
That  rises,  mystic,  from  the  root? 
Deep  hidden  in  the  womb  of  Earth. 
Whithin  a  seed  they  had  their  birth. 

But  who  had  born  that  seed,  I  pray? 

"Great  Mother  Earth,"  the  wise  men  say. 

But  who  bore  her,  and  you,  wise  men? 

Look  further,  deeper,  think  again. 

Whence  came  this  planet  and  those  suns, 
And  Life  that  through  creation  runs? 

Ah,  yes,  within  an  ocean  vast 

Of  Life  and  Love  and  Beauty,  passed 

A  current  iike  a  mighty  wind, 

With  poems  from  the  Almighty  Mind; 

Filled  with  His  wisdom,  love  and  art. 

And  tenderest  feelings  of  His  heart. 

Whence  came  the  brain  of  Newton  brave. 
Upon  this  ocean,  like  some  wave? 
—The  soul  of  Shakespeare?— Lincoln's  heart? 
— Great  Keppler's  eye? — Young  Raphael's  art: 

—  Unselfish  life  of  Washington? 

— And  that  vast  love  of  Mary's  Son? 

Whence  came  the  cry  of  Liberty, 
That  every  conscience  should  be  free 
To  know  its  God,  by  Him  be  blest, 
And  in  His  love  and  wisdom  rest? 

Out  of  that  ocean  of  all  bliss 

We'  ve  learned  the  source  of ' '  mother's  kiss. ' 


112 


Tell  me,  is  that  a  God  less  fair 

Than  all  his  matchless  flowrets  are? 

Is  that  a  Mind  less  wise  or  high 

Than  the  best  brains  that  askjHim  "Why" 
Is  God's  great  Soul  less  pure  and  good 
Than  His  best  types  of  womanhood? 


Has  He  no  heart  to  feel  our  woe 

When  from  us  back  to  Him  they  go? 

Would  any  father,  half  so  wise, 

Blight  hope  and  light  from  his  child's  eyes? 
Would  He  bereave  where  we  would  bless, 
And  curse  where  mother  would  caress? 


No  !  to  the  splendor  of  the  Sun 

All  tides  of  Life  and  Beauty  run  ! 

From  Him  they  came,  to  Him  they  go; 

Their  ebb  and  tide  is  His  heart's  flow; 
He  will  preserve  each  feature  fair 
That  doth  His  nature's  Self  declare. 


More  precious  far  our  souls  to  Him 
Than  bubbles  breaking  on  the  brim 
Of  basin.     No  mere  nothings,  we, 
But  children  of  Eternity. 

The  Godhead's  love  is  in  our  heart. 

And  all  our  being  is  His  Art. 


The  grain  thou  so  west— does  it  die? 

No  !  'tis  reborn  before  thine  eye ! 

There  is  a  "Form  Terrestrial," 

And  one,  more  bright,  "Celestial!" 
The  atoms  change,  but  onward  ever 
The  Spirit  lives  to  new  endeavor  ! 

118 


Whispering  MulLerry  Trees 


iyiivos  palpitate  and  vibrate  on  the  breeze, 
vl'  And  o'er  my  head  go  whispers  unbeknown; 
jEolean  harps  breathe  through  the  murmuring-  trees, 
That  lure  and  sooth  me  by  weird  undertone. 
My  heart  is  sad  and  sensitive  tonight, 
As,  all  alone  I  muse  by  candle  light! 

Soft  settles,  now,  the  mantle  of  the  year 
That  Nature  wraps  about  Her  slumbering  form, 
Her  leaves  lie  thickly  scattered,  dry  and  sear, 
And  every  root  is  covered  close  and  warm. 

What  tender  memories  droop  and  nestle,  light, 
Upon  my  old  heart's  flower  beds,  tonight? 

Fond  Spirits  come  again,  with  finger  tips 

That  touch  my  brow  with  visions  long  since  fled! 

What  wine,  of  heart  break,  press  they  to  my  lips ! 

What  sadly  sacred  accents,  from  the  dead, 

Float  from  the  Past  unto  my  hearken 'g  ear 
With  the  last  sighs  that  seal  the  closing  year? 

Ah,  my  Belov'd  and  Gone !  ye  are  not  dead! 

I  hold  thee,  ever,  in  my  yearning  heart! 

Old  Time's  elixir  heals  no  wounds  that  bleed; 

No  balm  doth  calm  and  catch  away  that  smart ! 
Forever — through  the  corridors  of  faith — 
My  Soul  goes  seeking  thy  loved  wraith ! 

And  thou  wilt  come!  e'en  now  I  hear  thy  call 
Falling  as  moonbeams  fail  on  troubled  sea! 
As  shadows  gently  creep  down  ivied  wall ; 
As  zephyrs  stir  the  flowerets  on  yon'  lea ! 

I  clasp  thee — O  Beloved — to  my  breast! 

And  hear  thee  whisper:  "my  Beloved!  rent!" 


114 


Follow  TKou  Me 

frf  HAT  though  the  night  be  dark  or  chill 
*AJ     And  the  path  be  steep  up  over  the  hill? 
The  road  is  rough  to  more  than  thee, 
And   high  is  the  call  to  Destiny: 
"Follow  thou  Me !" 

\Vhat  though  thy  locks  be  damp  with  dew, 
Thy  friends  be  far,  thy  forces  few; 

Though  wild  wolf  laugh,  though  hoots  the  owl, 
Though  maid  prove  false,  or  man  be  foul — 
* 'What's  that  to  thee?" 

Grand  is  the  school  of  growing  men  ! 

The  moons  must  wane,  yet  wax  again  ! 
The  breakers  roll  on  endless  shore, 

And  the  tempest  rises  evermore, 
Thou  canst  not  flee  ! 

The  father  toils— but  for  his  child; 

The  mother  chides — but  her  heart  is  mild ; 
Why  art  thou  here,  dost  thou  suppose? 
To  catch  the  beauty  in  the  rose ! 
To  hear  the  song  in  the  mighty  sea  ! 
Press  up  the  Heights  and  bravely  be  ! 
What  are  the  thorns  to  thee? 


Th?  Bird  and  the  Grave 


OVEK  her  form  I  hear  a  song 
That  wraps  my  heart — the  whole  year  long  ! 
It  comes  with  love  and  tender  Spring, 
And  woven  in  each  nest-wound  string, 
There  is  a  Peace  that  shall  prevail  ! 
Sweet  Song !  Sweet  Xest!  Sweet  Nightingale! 

I  know,  from  God  the  bird  doth  come, 
As,  from  The  Ark,  the  dove  did  roam. 
It  brings  its  song  from  Heaven's  gate 
To  tell  me  that  her  soul  doth  wait 

To  welcome  me  with  boundless  love. 

Sweet  Ark  !  Sweet  Gate  !  Sweet  earlier  Dove  ! 

Blest  be  thy  bower  O  bird  of  joy  ! 

Blest  be  thy  dear,  divine  employ, 

Thou  messenger  of  heavenly  peace  ! 

And  may  thy  fledglings  never  cease 

To  come — to  grow — and  aye  prolong 

Sweet  Hope!  Sweet  Faith!  Sweet  angel  Song! 

Ah !  in  my  heart  there  is  a  nest 
Where  once  she  laid  her  pledges  blest, 
And  covered  them  so  warm  and  true, 
And  mothered  them  and  upward  flew 

To  bring  them  to  God's  Bosom  pure. 

Sweet  Pledge!  Sweet  Home!  Sweet  Union  sure 


To  Edith 


-TYAITHFUI,  and  kind,  sweet  Friend!  thy  loving  heart 
*-^  —Made  more  than  mortal  by  (Jft  Far-seeing  Art- 
Has  been  The  Comfort  of  my  later  years  ! 
And,  tho'  my  earlier  days  were  steeped  in  tears, 
Love  hath  empowered  me,  to  Perform  my  Part! 

No  jealousy  was  thine,  because  of  old 

— Before  thou  earnest — in  Life's  wintry  cold, 

A  Sister-Heart  as  tender  and  as  fine, 

Sustained  my  Soul  with   Loyalty  like  thine, 

And  sealed  it  with  her  death  ! — Pure  Spirt  Divine  / 

Thou  love'st  her  too  !  —  a  heart  as  part  thine  own; 
Like  those  Twin-Sisters  of  Love's  sacred  Throne 
(Its  crown  in  Heaven,  its  Footstool  on  fair  Earth) 
Who  stand  the  Symbol  of  Life's  Sacred  !Birth; 
Blest  "MARTHA  !"  and  Blest  "MAHY  '."  who  alone 

Nursed  back,  to  life,  again,  "Dead  Lazarus  /" 
Hearing  The  Savior's  call  at  Nazareth ! 
That  Love-Call — to  the  spirit  almost  fled  ! 
Whose  body  past  the  Portals  of  the  Dead  ! 
—Evoked  to  Life !  Love  !  Victory !  and  Breath  ! 


Th§  Swan  s  Kiss 

(To  Micluel  Aiigelo's  "Leila.") 

/SfoFT  sang  the  billows  of  the  southern  s«a 
*--^  Upon  a  shore  of  rose  and  ambered  light, 
When,  from  the  West,  there  came  Celestial  Guest 
All  lines  of  magic,  and  of  purest  white ! 

It  was  the  God  of  Beauty  and  of  Grace, 
And  love  he  bore  — bright  shining  through  his 
face! 

A  Goddess  slept  upon  the  pearl-strewn  foaming  shore 

Like  sea  shell  in  the  splendor  of  her  dower ; 

The  moan  of  life  lept  to  her  evermore, 

The  sighing  Ocean  swept  her  with  its  power  ! 

And  ever  and  anon  she  sighs  —  the  while  she 
sleeps, 

Till  the  white  God  of  Grace  upon  her  peeps  ! 

"How  shall  I  come  to  her  I  love  so  true?'* 

He  whispered,  through  the  music  of  his  smile; 

"With  snow-flaked  plumes,  bright  waves  and  morn 
ing  dew, 

And  wings  of  grace— without  the  serpent's  guile!" 
He  changed  into  a  Swan,  and  with  his  kiss 
He  filled  her  soul  forevermore  with  bliss  ! 

So,  matchless  fable  !  in  thy  lines  I  see 
The  vibrant  glories  of  Celestial  Art; 
Magnetic  splendors  and  plumed  witchery; 
Pure  power  to  thrill  and  vitalize  the  heart ! 

To  wake   Earth's  spirit  with   bright  Beauty's 
grace ! 

And  bring  the  Birth-of -Genius  to  our  race ! 


Aladd; 


aiwKAM  is  on  my  soul  of  treasures  vast 
Within  the  veil  of  oceans  and  of  hills  ! 
The  romance  and  the  wonders  of  the  past 
That  all  the  splendid  page  of  Nature  fills  ! 
The  spirit  of  the  centuries  flame — 
The  secret  of  the  Great  Creator's  Name  ! 

O  touch  my  tongue  with  coals  of  living  fire 
Great  Delphic  God  that  walks  with  humble  man! 
O  let  that  Sacred  Flame  my  soul  inspire, 
And  grant  to  me  the  magic  lute  of  Pan ! 

The  tender  chords  of  Orpheus'  mystic  lyre 
That  draws  all  life  aloft  to  thy  desire! 

Then  ope'  the  eyes  of  them  that  slumber  .'still, 

Benumbed  by  Circe's  draft — that  food  for  swine ! 

Let  heavenly  Hebe  bend,  their  bowls  to  fill; 

And  pour  the  amber  nectar  so  divine  ! 

Let  all  men's  being,  swift,  to  Thee  incline, 
And  glow  through  head  and  heart  with  Sacred 
Wine! 

O  touch  the  spring  that  lifts  the  latch  of  Fate; 
And  turn  the  key  that  opens  wide  the  door, 
Into  Thy  Palace  court — before  too  late  ! 
And  make  the  nations  wonder  and  adore  ! 

Spread  out  thy  healing  balm  upon  all  hearts  ! 

Endow  them  with  the  glories  of  Thine  Arts ! 


Th?  Divine  Mirage 

•-TT-  TRAVELED  where  deserts  grew  tawny  with  heat, 
-r*Where  baked  bent  the  cactus  and  sage, 
Not  a  spear  of  alfalfa  nor  clover  nor  wheat, 
Naught,  naught,  but  the  sun's  purple  rage! 

Yet  the  ragged  Saharas  were  clothed,  to  their 
feet, 

In  a  wonderful  mystic  Mirage! 

Far  and  wide  spread  its  river,  celestial  and  vast, 
That  slept  in  the  arms  of  the  sky ! 
Green  islands  lay  floating,  with  blue  shadows  cast 
Where  sweet  water  silent  flowed  by; 

And  fair  meadows  ripened,  as  though  they  would 
last 

Eternally  fresh  to  the  eye ! 

O  soul  grown  so  weary  with  World's  barren  waste 
And  fainting  with  sadness  and  age, 
Look  up  to  yon  Vision — from  deserts  of  thirst ! 
Drink  deep  !  Hope's  allurements  engage  ! 

Bathe  heart  in  that  fountain  thy  tongue  may  not 
taste! 

Love !  Love  is  the  Spirit's  mirage  ! 

Not  of  earth  is  its  essence !  not  here  is  its  rest 
In  the  dust  of  the  turbulent  mart. 
Like  the  dove  from  the  ark,  it  must  fly  on  its  quest 
To  its  nest — in  the  poor  human  heart ! 

Like  an  angel  of  healing  it  droops   to  man's 
breast, 

On  its  way  to  God"s-Palace-of-Art. 


Oases 

pT  DESERT  is  the  world's  dry  waste 

^-*  Of  care  and  sin  and  toil  and  death, 

But  every  here  and  there  a  taste 

Of  Eden ;  and  a  quiet  breath 

Of  Love's  aroma;  and  the  (sweet 
Green  grass  of  Faith  beneath  our  feet  ! 

Affection's  rose — in  spite  of  thorn — 
Blooms  there,  and  blushes  by  the  spring 
To  which  our  fainting  steps  are  borne ; 
To  which  our  fading  hopes  we  bring, 

And  there  revive  them  from  the  heat; 

Fair  flowers  of  joy  beneath  our  feet ! 

The  laden  caravan  of  Life 

Must  move  on  paradisial  way, 

Ah,  not  in  vain  its  strain  and  strife ! 

Behold  !  it  brings  Bethesda's  Day 

When,  safe  beside  its  sacred  pool, 

We  count  our  treasures — calm  and  cool. 

Frankincense  of  the  Soul  serene; 
And  spikenard  of  the  laden  Heart; 
And  gold  of  Memory  with  its  sheen ; 
And  pearls  of  Peace— that  shall  not  part  ! 

Lo,  see  the  burst  of  Heavenly  Gates ! 

The  Treasure-House  that  there  awaits  ! 


l-.'i 


The  Sphinx  and  the  Curtain  of  Night 

/"V  MYSTERY  wondrous  and  vast ! 
^-^  O'er  the  desert  of  life,  as  I  stray, 
Hast  thou  something  to  tell  of  the  Past 
Or  the  Future — to  warn  me  the  way? 

See  the  sands,  how  they  drift  o'er  the  plain, 
And  the  curtain  of  Night,  how  it  falls ! 
Canst  thou  tell  me  the  meaning  of  Pain? 
And  the  Voice  of  the  Soul — whence  it  calls? 

Lo !  I  lean  on  my  camel  afaint ! 
Far,  far  have  I  come  o'er  the  main! 
Dost  thou  know  of  my  spirit's  complaint  ? 
Canst  thou  scan  some  Oasis  to  gain? 


Hark !  deep  through  the  midnight  I  hear 
The  voice  of  the  Sphinx  on  her  throne : 
"O  mortal,  I  know  of  each  year  ! 
I  mark  every  anguish  and  moan  ! 

Deep,  deep  in  tht  Earth  are  the  springs 
Where  the  Water-of-Life  is  retained  ! 
In  the  font  of  Her  bosom  it  sings, 
Long,  long  e'er  the  surface  be  gained  ! 

Descend  from  thy  wandering  beast; 
Dig  down  to  those  Sources  of  Power  ! 
Right  tliere  shalt  thou  find  thy  loved  rest- 
Thy  oases — thy  haven — thy  dower  ! 


Ths  Vale-of-Baca 


HE  desert  sands  were  drifting'  in  the  wind, 

The  sad  Sirrocco's  breath  was  hot  and  dry  ; 
There  was  in  sight  no  green  oasis  kind, 
And  man  and  beast  and  verdure  drooped  to  die! 
The  laden  caravan  was  palsied  by  the  heat, 
The  blinded  guides  had  failed  and  lost  their  way; 
The  fainting  camels  staggered  on  their  feet, 
Nor  could  aught  now  survive  the  close  of  day  ! 

Behold!  there  came  a  gray  Magician  old, 
With  white  beard  long  and  bowed  upon  his  breast; 
His  brow  was  pale,  his  withered  hand  was  cold, 
But  in  his  Eye  bright  Wisdom's  Light  burned  best! 
His  magic  wand  was  poised  upon  his  thumb, 
And  balanced  were  its  points  with  subtlest  care  ; 
His  dying  comrades  gathered  round  him,  dumb; 
He  spake  to  them:  "For  water,  friends,  dig  there/" 

And  lo!  they  found  the  crystal  shining  Stream; 
And  each,  refreshed,  praised  God  and  drank  his  fill! 
The  quiet  moon  poured  o'er  them,  like  a  dream; 
They  slept,  in  peace  —  and  all  the  camp  lay  still. 
So,  on  the  path  of  life,  there  comes  a  day 
When  mortal  guides  prove  false  as  Fatuous  Light; 
Then  Heavenly  Genius  comes  to  point  the  way! 
The  darkness  scatters,  and  the  road  grows  bright  ! 

Life's  desert  sands  are  cooled  and  cease  to  burn; 
The  arid  waste  becomes  a  quiet  dell. 
"They,  passing  through  the  Vale  of  Baca,  turn 
Its  thirsty  leaves  into  A  Livinff-lVell!" 


In  Pharaoh's  Court 


US  lad.  with  dappled  coat, 
•*-     Whither  wendest  thou  thy  way  ? 
Lonely,  wandering  and  remote, 
Fainting  at  the  dawn  of  day? 

''I  am  Jacob's  son  and  heir. 
And  I  roam  to  find  my  sheep; 
I  have  had  a  Vision  fair 
In  the  magic  hour  of  sleep  ! 

I  have  hunted  near  and  far, 
Over  sands  that  burnt  my  feet; 
Guided  only  by  my  Star  — 
Naught  to  drink  and  scant  to  eat  !" 


Little  lad,  with  weary  feet 
Tired  face  and  tangled  hair, 
Who  are  these  with  thee  I  meet 
Whom  thou  followest  in  despair  ? 

"These  are  Midianites — for  marts 
Where  they  barter  robes  and  feasts ; 
And  they  deal  in  broken  hearts: 
And  my  coat  is  torn  by  becuttx!" 


Noble  youth,  in  dungeon  dark 
With  thy  wild  eyes,  sad  and  red , 
Dost  thou  bare  a  culprit's  mark 
In  these  caverns  of  the  dead? 

1-.4 


"Faithful  stood  I  by  my  post, 
But  I  was  betrayed  and  barred; 
>>'////  /  ttc-rre  the  Holy  Ghoxt — 
With  roy  visage  stained  and  marred 


Stately  Prince  !  in  Pharaoh's  Court ! 
With  thy  gems  and  robes  of  state  ! 
Art  thoti  he  who  once  was  "bought" 
And  who  peered  through  "prison  gate"! 

Who  are  these  who  prostrate  kneel 
Pleading  for  thy  Bread-of-Life? 
"'Brothers'  these! — who  made  me  feel 
Sorrow's  scourge,  and  hunger's  knife  ! 

"Cast  me  broken  in  the  pit! 
Sold  me  unto  brutal  bands  ! 
Stained  my  robe — of  colors — knit — 
Witli  their  jealous  bloody  hands  ! 

"Ah,  I  see  'The  Vision'  now  ! 
All  the  sacred  Path-of-Pain  ! 
And  the  'Harvest  sheaves  that  bow' 
And  my  Heart  is  whole  again  ! 

O'er  Life's  waste  the  dry  sands  flew! 

But  the  desert  waits  this  hour, 

For  one  falling  drop  of  dew  ! 

And  the  burst  of  one  moMt  jfotMf!" 


125 


m?  Byway  Search 


NTO  the  byways  go, 

With  thoughtful  step  and  slow, 

To  find  The  TRUE! 
Not  as  the  pompous  go, 
But  as  the  still  streams  flow — 

Bright,  clear  and  blue. 

As  for  lost  diamonds  search 
Under  the  mold  and  smirch, 

And  dark; 

Into  each  crevice  creep; 
Wake  those  who  faint  or  sleep; 

Rouse  them  to  hark ! 

Ye  shall  not  strive  nor  cry  ; 
It  is  not  you— but  I 

The  Lord  of  Life— 
That  calleth  to  My  feast— 
The  great  unto  the  least ! 

I  need  no  strife. 

Mercy  —  not  sacrifice — 
Words  gentle,  sweet  and  wise, 

These  I  require. 
Give  to  the  starved  My  Bread, 
Till  each  poor  soul  be  fed ; 

Ask  not  for  'hire' ! 

He  that  shall  lose  for  Me 
He  alone  groweth  free, 

lie  only  gains! 
//'  matt  doth  lose  his  soul. 
Though  he  grasp  riches  whoh, 

Worihlen  hi#  pains ! 

136 


Like  an  hid  treasure's  glow 
Under  the  slime  and  snow — 

Sell  all  thou  hast 
To  buy  My  pearl  so  pure  ! 
Then  thou  hast  treasure  sure — 

Wtalih  that  will  last! 

Deep  are  the  wells  of  Light 
Long  hid  from  human  Sight — 

These  now  reveal! 
Many,  the  "great,"  have  sought — 
"Righteous"  and  "prophets"  bought. 

Break  now  the  SEAL  ! 

Blest  are  the  eyes  that  see 
And  the  ears  ope'd  to  thee ; 

Take  of  My  leaven  ! 
Though  they  lose  all  below 
Into  their  souls  shall  flow 

Treasures-of-Heaven ! 

None  of  the  vain  shall  know 
Of  that  vast  overflow 

Of  Light! 

They  are  the  foolish,  blind, 
Careless,  unwise,  unkind, 

Darkened  of  sight. 

"I've  bought  a  field!"  they  cry; 
"I've  wed  a  maid !"  and  "I— 

I  train  my  ox  !" 
Eyes — but  they  do  not  see! 
Kars — but  they  hear  not  thee! 

Their  hearts  rocksl 

Let  the  dead  bury  their  dead  ! 

See  Thou  my  TRUTH  be  said 
To  the  just! 

Only  the  souls  that  give 

Of  My  Life  Bread,  few- 
All  else  is  dust! 


Faiht  Heart 


tired  of  this  vale  of  tears, 
^*  And  breaking  under  poverty  and  years, 
Cast  down  his  load  beneath  the  juniper  tree ; 
And  prayed  the  Lord — if  so  His  will  might  be — 
To  let  him  die,  at  length,  and  go  to  rest : 
"Oh,  grant  it,  Lord,  if  so  thou  deemest  best! 

"I  see  no  conscience  in  this  evil  place, 
Nor  can  I  mark  the  progress  of  my  race, 
Unto  Thy  Law  of  Spiritual  Things. 
The  rolling  year  only  more  madness  brings! 
More  folly,  and  more  wanton  crimes  occur; 
Myself  no  better  than  my  fathers  were ! 

"It  is  enough !     O  grant  my  broken  heart 
That,  worn  and  sad,  I  to  some  place  depart 
Where  I  shall  find  the  gentle  and  the  pure; 
Some  blest  oasis,  sheltered,  quiet,  sure, 
Where  Thou  mayst  sometimes  smile,  and  show  Thy 

hand ; 
Like  shadow  of  cool  rock — in  weary  land!" 


The  Lord  who  once  by  Hagar's  dying  boy 
Awoke  its  mother  by  that  sound  of  joy — 
The  burst  of  bubbling  springs  by  angels  shown— 
Now  cheered  Elijah:  "Son,  faint  not,  nor  moan! 
Rise !     Eat  and  drink !     I  have  a  Hidden  Host 
Who  serve — not  Mammon,  but  the  Holy  Ghost'" 


12* 


Shepherd,  Poet,  King 


£T  MOUNTAIN  top — and  glory  shining  far ! 

Above — the  shimmering  host  of  sun  and  star ! 
The  far  pale  splendors  of  the  quiet  moons; 
The  endless  ecstasies  of  nights  and  noons! 

Beside  him  browse  his  flocks  of  gentle  sheep; 
His  staff  he  holds,  and  doth  his  vigil  keep; 
Stern  rocks  and  the  dim  forests  of  the  wild; 
Alone  he  stands — a  brave,  bronzed,  kingly  child ! 

The  lion  and  the  bear  have  marked  their  prey, 
While  the  dark  shadows  haunt  the  dying  day ; 
And  there  is  naught  to  help -save  God  and  Heaven! 
And  that  strong  prayer  within — Faith's  constant 
leaven. 


Stand  !  matchless  Beauty  of  heroic  Art! 
Thy  priceless  faith  shall  rend  Hell's  jaws  apart! 
And  rescue  from  the  bloody  maws  of  Greed 
God's  flocks  of  Innocence  that  thou  dost  feed! 

Stand!     Teacher  of  God's  Truth,  and  Love,  and 

Art, 

Like  David  strong!— with  ever  dauntless  heart! 
No  more  alond!     Angelic  hosts  on  high 
Descend  to  help — with  God  and  Nature  nigh ! 


Th?  Spring  by  the  Gate 

sarrooD  David — in  the  Wilderness — 
*^  Helping  his  little  band's  distress; 
Of  those  who,  harrassed  and  forlorn, 
Had  been  by  world  injustice  torn. 

Hot  sweat  drops  marred  his  weary  face- 
By  brutal  vSaul  "outlawed"— "disgraced"  !- 

He  murmured :  "Would  that  I  might  drink 
Of  the  pure  well  whose  pearly  brink 
Sparkles  beside  sweet  Bethlehem's  Gate 
And  cools  the  pathway — early — late  ! 

There  spring  the  flowers  on  mossy  greens 
Held  now  bv  heartless  Philistines  !" 


Then  heroes  three  together  spake ; 

And  through  the  foe,  at  night,  they  break, 

And  bring  that  water  to  his  lip; 

He  grasps  the  nectar — longs  to  sip — 

But  turning,  sighs,  through  lips  close  sealed : 
"Not  by  thy  wounds  would  I  be  healed  !" 


Christ !  Captain  !  leading  on  Thy  Band 
Through  weary  paths  by  Thy  Right  Hand 
To  heal  the  sad  Earth's  dire  distress, 
Sweet  waters  smile — not  "wilderness" — 

For  Thee,  beside  thy  Father's  throne! 

Thou  wilt  not  drink  that  bliss  alone! 

Thou  wilt  not  leave  thy  Loved  to  Fate ! 
Nor  bask  beside  the  Heavenly  Gate 
At  yon  still  spring  of  peace  and  rest ! 
Thou — to  us  weary — whispereth : 

"My  Comforter  to  thee  I'll  send  ! 

Belov'd!  I'm  with  thee  to  the  en<l!" 

1*0 


Galilee 


Master  stood  beside  the  sea 
Of  the  far  land  of  Galilee; 
His  friends  were  tossing  on  its  waves. 
Whose  wild  foam  swept  them  to  their  graves ; 
While  he  stood  safely  on  the  strand 
Where  the  surf  fades  out  on  firm,  soft  sand. 

By  journeys  worn,  in  heart  and  frame, 
Through  cares  and  sorrows  long,  he  came. 
He  sighed  for  rest  beneath  the  trees 
Where  green  grass  waved  in  the  evening  breeze ; 
Where,  safe  behind  some  sheltering  hill, 
The  storm  grew  hushed,  the  night  grew  still. 

He  peered  across  the  breakers  dark 
And  watched  the  tossing  of  their  bark. 
He  knew  they  would  not  find  their  way; 
That  all  must  sink  ere  dawn  of  day! 

He  strode  forth  on  the  waters  wild! 

Behold!  they  hushed,  and  the  winds  grew  mild! 

Ah,  soul  so  faint !  that  sinks  aghast 

At  journeys  long  and  trials  past; 

Look  up !  once  more,  o'er  Life's  dark  waste ! 

Step  out !  be  brave  !— to  the  rescue  haste  ! 

He  saves  himself  who  saves  his  friend! 

God's  Great  Arm  holds  you  to  the  End! 


Still  Waters 


still  waters"  shall  ye  rest 
"In  the  New  Day!" 
So  sing  the  voices  of  the  blest, 

So  prophets  say. 

Not  noise  nor  strife  nor  frenzied  haste, 
Nor  greed  nor  pride  nor  wanton  waste. 

"Green  pastures"  doth  the  Lord  "prepare" 

For  those  who  love. 
'Tis  not  the  falcon  of  the  air 

But  the  meek  dove 
Which  he  selects  to  symbol  Heaven  — 
The  emblem  of  His  Spirit,  given. 

"The  Lord  was  not  in  tempest  wrack, 

But  still  small  Voice." 
To  Gideon's  Band  he  spoke:  "Go  back! 

Whoever  faints  —  at  choice  ! 
I  need  not  any  human  power, 
But  quiet  Faith  and  Mine,  Own  Hour! 

"And  lo  !  the  armies  of  the  Wrong 
Become  each  other's  foes; 

And  troops  that  deem  themselves  so  strong, 
Fall  by  their  own  blind  blows  ! 

Hold  up  My  Torch  to  its  full  light! 

'  Tin  /  empower  thee  for  My  Fight  ! 

"Not  they  who  trust  in  man  or  horse 
Shall  ride  across  My  field, 

When  Satan  lies  a  fallen  corse, 
And  all  his  legions  yield! 

I  need  no  power  but  My  Right  Arm  ! 

(jo  pray  —  and  banish  false  alarm!" 


Th?  Angel  of  Healing 

^VAINT  mortal  strength!  O  why  shouldst  thou  aspire 

To  stand  alone  and  climb  the  steeps  of  care, 
When  God  and  saints  and  angels  are  afire 
With  Love— to  lift  thee  to  the  upper  air? 

To  buoy  thy  halting  step;  to  heal  each  wound! 

Where 'mid  the  world,  can  such  High  Help  be  found? 

Go  lean  thy  weakness  on  God's  Mighty  Heart  — 

Who  made  thine  own  and  knows  thy  need  of  Him! 

Lo !  here's  His  angel  with  wide  healing  Art ! 

Drink  deep  His  portion  poured  thee  to  the  brim ! 
Quaff  all  its  strength  and  let  the  rich  wine  flow 
Through  all  thy  veins;  and  its  strong  uplift  know ! 

Its  current  fillHhy  heart  with  wise  resolve; 

Its  pure  elixir  lights  thine  eyes  aflame; 

Thy  soul  shall  all  its  solemn  problems  solve; 

Thy  forehead  wear  thy  Great  Creator's  name ! 
Rise  up  and  walk  !  and  be  by  Him  upheld — 
The  Ancient  One  of  Days !  the  Angel  of  the  Eld ! 

O'er  all  thy  weakness,  lo!  His  wings  are  spread; 
And  all  His  strength  is  wrapped  about  thy  form. 
Fear  not !  thy  foes  are  banished  to  the  dead; 
Dread  not  the  rocks,  the  darkness,  nor  the  storm ! 

Soft  fan  His  pinions  like  the  down  of  dove; 

And  round  thy  shadowy  future  are  His  arms  of 
Love. 


IS:1. 


Th?  Gates  of  Life 

/'"THiusTsat  within  a  dying  widow's  room 
^-*-  Making  it  bright  and  like  a  floweret  bloom, 
Casting  away  the  sadness  and  the  gloom, 
Dispelling  doubt,  the  death  damp,  and  the  doom. 

A  knock  was  heard  upon  the  hovel  gate — 
Another  mother's  voice:    "My 'child,  Lwait; 
Thy  father,  too;  the  midnight  hour  is  late; 
Why   wanderest  thou   afar,  should    not  thy  .quest 
abate?" 

Then  softly  spake  the  Son,  our  Saviour  dear  : 

"Loved  Mother  Mine,  have  thou  no  doubt  nor  fear! 

I  came  into  this  world  of  shadows  drear 

To  brush  away  the  gloom,  and  bid  the  Sun  appear  ! 

Behold!  the  Earth  is  J/m«!  and  every  flower 

Blooms  but  to  prove  the  God-Life  in  this  hour 

Of  death,    transition,   growth  —  unto    My    Higher 

Bower  ! 
I  have  encamped,  with  man,  one  night  —  hi-s  soul   to 

dower! 

Wouldst  thou  deprive  a  sister's  spirit  frail 

Of  this  sweet  cup  which  brings  the  Holy  Grail? 

This  sacred  wafer,  pressed  to  lips  so  pale? 

Bow  low !  and  greet  thy  Mother-God  !    Cry  'Hail' ! 

Over  the  endless  Space  and  Time  I  pass  ! 
This  earthly  bondage  fades — all  flesh  is  grass  ! 
No  star  stays  Me  !  no  earthly  'tie',  alas  ! 
He  is  my  'brother' — 'friend' —  who   drinks  with  me 
this  G'/as.v!" 


Frankincense 


^<HI:    Master,  Christ,  was   journeying   on  toward 

O        death, 

And  many  mockers  hung,  with  bated  breath, 

To  watch  him  at  the  table,  temple,  mart ; 

To  ply  hard  questions,  and  to  rend  his  heart. 

Thus  once  lie  sat,  attending  at  their  feast; 

A  woman  entered — and  their  murmurs  ceased  ! 

She  bears  a  vial  of  frankincense  fine 

That  fills  the  hall   with  fragrance  where  they  dine! 

Moat  choice  and  costly  are  its  contents  rarel 

She  pours  them  on  his  feet,  and  with  her  hair 

She   bathes   and  soothes  and   wipes  away   the 
mire — 

So  loving  was  th'  Faith  that  did  inxpirel 

Then  whined  the  voice  of  Judas  with  the  gold : 
"This  precious  substance  had  been  better  sold 
And  paid  out  to  the  poor — not  thrown  away!" 
(Not  that  he  loved  the  poor  did  he  this  protest  say; 
But  hypocrite  at  heart,  and  full  of  brag, 
He  was  a  wily  thief  and  held  the  bag). 

Then  Christ  spoke  gently,  without  scorn  or  frown, 
But  sadly  mild,  in  meekness  looking  down : 
"The  poor,  alas  !  forever  claim  your  aid; 
Yet  through  all  time  let  this  sweet  truth  be  said: 

'This  "wait  the  fragrance  of  A  Loyal  Heart! 

More  choice  than  gemx  of  gold  or  radiant  Art!" 

So,  on  the  pathway  of  this  weary  life, 

Unfurl  Love's  flag  and  still  sin's  cruel  strife! 

Cast  thou  thy  seed  upon  Faith's  troubled  sea; 

It  shall  roll  back  and  bring  thy  bread  to  thee! 

Pour  forth  thy  fragrance  in  some  generous  Deed 
The  sad  world  craves  it — this  the  Master's  need  ! 


A  Csunfrx  Funeral 


"-TT'  HEAR  the  sad  tone  of  the  bell ! 

*^"*  Slow  and  low  doth  it  fall  on  the  ear ! 

From  the  quaint  village  steeple  it  fell 

O'er  the  landscape  now  frozen  and  drear, 

And  I  see  the  long,  wandering  line 

As  it  winds  down  the  white  country  hill ; 

And  the  wagons  that  tip  and  decline 

Toward  the  graveyard— so  lonesome  and  still! 

Tis  an  old  mother's  form,  in  the  earth 
That  they  lay  there,  at  last,  to  its  rest. 
Brought  back  to  the  soil  of  its  birth 
From  her  wanderings  far  in  the  West. 
And  I  say  to  my  soul,  as  I  sigh  : 
"Yes  this  is  the  Symbol  of  Life ! 
Borne  back  to  its  Birthplace  on  high. 
It  has  passed  from  all  turmoil  and  strife ! 

Back,  back  to  the  Home-of-the-Heart, 
There  the  Mother-God  opens  Her  breast; 
In  that  birthplace  of  Beauty  and  Art, 
Love,  Music,  and  Goodness — to  rest ! 
In  that  source  of  the  Sun's  magic  flame; 
In  that  pathway  of  moon  and  of  star; 
Let  us  lay  down  at  last  our  weak  frame. 
In  God's  palace  of  Wonder  and  Awe ! 


Moonlight  on  Matilija  Mountain 

OVKR  the  Californian  vale 
Soft  falls  the  moonlight  calm  and  pale, 
The  purple  mountain  rises  vast 
And  on  the  evening  sky  is  cast 
Its  outlines  melting  in  the  blue, 
With  every  soft  cerulean  hue ! 

Low  are  its  flanks  that  droop  below, 

And  vibrate  through  the  afterglow. 

A  thousand  ridges  swim  and  glide 

Amid  the  twilight's  molten  tide 
Of  radiant  wonder ! — amber  gleams 
That  flood  the  vale  with  tender  dreams  ! 

Above,  like  some  faint  Indian  boat, 
Yon  slender  crescent  moon  doth  float ; 
Bearing — like  diamond  on  her  horn — 
The  bright  gem  Hesperus,  till  the  dawn  I 

As   though   a   brooch   for    Heaven's   fair 
Queen 

More  brilliant  far  than  Earth  has  seen  ! 

Deep  slumber  drowns  this  vale  of  rest; 

Man  sleeps  at  peace  on  Nature's  breast. 

The  almond,  and  the  olive-bloom 

Peep  fragrant  through  Night's  tender  gloom  '. 
And  orange  groves,  from  incensed  sods, 
Distill  strange  nectars  of  the  gods  ! 

How  doth  the  soul  expand  and  rise 

In  adoration  toward  the  skies ! 

And  broaden,  like  that  vasty  deep, 

Whose  lapping  waves  near  vigil  keep; 
And,  like  our  pulses,  more  and  more 
Beat  onward  toward  yon  Heavenly  Shore  ! 


187 


Purging  the  Dross 

OPOET,  weave  for  us  an  holy  rhyme, 
Wrought  from  heroic  notes  of  nobler  time! 
Break  from  the  slavish  breed  of  selfish  ease ! 
Cast  out  the  moral  leprosy — disease — 
Of  greed  and  rapine — foul  corruption's  courts  ! 
Sound  tocsins  of  the  sotfl,  and  man  its  forts 
With  civic  virtue  !    Haste  and  seek  ye  men 
Whom  God  Eternal  hides  in  cave  and  den ; 
Who  will  not  bow  the  knee  to  brutal  Baal; 
Nor,  silent,  pass,  when  Manhood's  cast  in  jail ! 

A  curse  upon  the  parasites  of  wealth, 
Who  rob  the  toiling  multitudes  by  stealth ! 
Who  buy  our  judges,  lease  our  courts  and  halls 
Of  legislature  (which  their  craft  installs) 
To  blunder  broadcast,  and  to  blind  the  eyes 
Which  else  would  see  God's  omens  in  the  nki?*  ! 

Has  He  not  cast  out  Spain — destroyed  her  hold — 

In  that  she  grew  corrupt  by  lust  for  gold? 

Did  He  not  hurl  His  spear,  and  drown  in  blood 

Our  land — when  slavery  His  Right  withstood? 

Shall  He  not,  now,  a  bitter  ransom  ask 

For  every  white  slave  onuhsd  hi/  cruel  tusk'' 

For  every  child  so  basely  robbed  of  youth, 

Hope,  health,  life,  learning, pity,  love  and  truth? — 

Bent  down  to  death  by  grim  machinery's  wheel, 

To  glut  the  maws  of  monsters  made  of  steel ! 

How  shall  we  call  this  age  "an  age  of  good" 
When  Mammon  blights  true  Man-and- Womanhood  ? 
When  heaping  matter  does  but  stunt  the  mind, 
And  leaves  the  heart  more  naked,  cold,  and  blind ! 
When  haste  to  grasp  does  but  increase  life's  strain. 
And  kills  the  conscience  for  false  pride  and  gain! 

God  grant  us  souls  of  truer,  purer  wealth ! 

-The  riches  of  the  heart,  mind,  conscience,  health  - 

Who  now  at  last  High  Heaven  begin  to  see; 


Who  spread  those  Lights  of  bright  Eternity ; 

Of  matchless  Beauty;  of  supernal  Faith; 

The  dauntless  Wisdom  that  surmounteth  Death ! 

God  lift  the  masses  to  their  first  birthrights ! 
And  build,  within  them,  those  o'erwelming  mights 
That  come  from  courage,  conscience,  zeal  and  toil; 
And  virtues,  blessing  those  who  love  the  soil! 
The  ifimple  virtues,  clean  and  calm  and  pure; 
The  honest,  wholesome  virtues  that  endure ! 

Whirling  Wheels 

("Machinery  Hall,"  St.  Louis'  Centcnniul. 

I  STOOD  by  mighty  forces 
And  watched  the  piston  speed. 
Swift  as  Apollo's  horses, 

More  fleet  than  stag  or  steed  ! 
And  overhead  'mid  rafters 

And  underneath  the  floor, 
Stayed  not  by  sighs  nor  laughters 
Went  on  the  ceaseless  roar ! 

I  pondered  link  and  pulley, 

Bright  lever,  brace  and  screw; 
Each  bore  its  part  so  fully, 

As  on  the  engines  flew  I 
Then  Thought  shot  through  the  ceiling, 

And  saw  the  planets  roll, 
With  God's  vast  Dream  and  Feeling, 

And  tasks  for  every  soul ! 

Take  hold  then  faithful  workers, 

With  swift  and  willing  hands  ! 
Let's  not  be  shiftless  shirkers, 

But  link  the  gliding  bands  ! 
And  every  thoughtful  master 

Who  plans  for  men  their  'job', 
He  just! — and  join  the  faster 

Those  Wondrous~Wheels-of-God! 


Chandelles  du  St.  Esprit 

("Holy  Ghost  Candles"  or  'Spanish  Bayonet") 

a  POX  the  jagged  mountainside, 
Among  the  ragged  canyonstones, 
Where  snow  peaks  climb  in  glittering  pride, 
And  coyot  gnaws  the  buffalo  bones; 
Bright  "candles"  of  the  "St.  Esprit" 
Hold  up  their  arms  and  speak  to  me : 

"O  traveler  on  life's  barren  waste 

Among  the  bones  of  djTing  men 
And  wolfish  monsters,  rise !  make  haste  ! 
Behold  My  cross  and  diadem  ! 

Hold  up  the  Torch  of  'St.  Esprit !' 
Extend  its  light  to  make  men  free ! 

What  care  the  Gods  for  mountain's  pride 

That  glitters  cold  with  'Science-Truth?' 
While  on  life's  weary  highway  side 

Wild  passions  gnaw  the  heart  of  youth. 
Above  the  roar  and  wrack  of  death 
Hold  up  the  torch  of  Love  and  Faith  ! 

Adown  the  canyon  pours  the  stream 

Begotten  from  those  mighty  cliffs  ! 
Alas !  their  power  grows  worse  when  warm ; 
Their  melting  sweeps  the  rocks  adrift ! 
The  traveler  dreads  that  dripping  snow, 
Its  cruel  mercy,  far  below ! 

For  who  can  tell  what  they  will  spare 
Before  they  sleep  in  quiet  dale? 
Bold,  clambering  human  hearts  beware ! 
The  strength  of  man  may  not  avail ! 
One  golden  torch  on  high  I  see — 
That  faithful  'Flower-of-St.  Esprit  V 

140 


The  flower  that  breathes  its  fragrance  still 

Whate'er  of  storm  or  sun  betide. 
That  recketh  not  of  joy  nor  ill, 

And  counteth  not  on  power  or  pride. 
Its  beauty  asks  alone  to  be 
The  humble  '  Flo  wer-of-St- Esprit!*' 


Old  Mission  Belfry 


©ESIDE  a  moss-grown  ragged  wall 
In  his  old  robes  frayed, 
I  found  a  poor  friar,  gaunt  and  tall, 
Who  by  his  bells  had  stayed. 
He  sang  and  rang  in  poverty — 
"Not  wealth — but  Harmony." 

O'er  all  the  crumbling  cloister  shrine 

The  mellow  sunlight  flowjr., 
And  up  and  down  in  the  pale  moonshine* 
His  trembling  bell-cord  goes. 
The  worn  frame  of  the  belfry  bell 
Totters  still  his  tale  to  tell : 

"O  Men  of  Dust!  why  strive  and  stress 

For  greed  and  fame? 

How  false  the  pride  that  breeds  distress — 
Ye  die  the  same! 
O'er  each  one's  grave  this  bell  must 

toll; 
\Vhat  price  can  pay  for  oitc  lost  xonl? 

'Tis  Peace,  not  Power  the  skies  approve, 

A  conscience  clear; 
A  heart  at  rest  with  human  love 
And  the  Christ  dear. 
Saint  Francis'  bride  was  'Poverty' ! 
Not  wealth — but  HARMONY!" 


141 


The  Buried  Bell 

I^HKY  tell  of  a  buried  Bell 

^      That  fell  in  an  earthquake's  maw; 

Of  its  note  that  forever  would  float 

Through  each  crevice  and  rift  and  flaw, 
With  a  sound  from  the  underground 
Of  Eternal  Harmony's  law. 

And  it  seems  to  me  still  I  dream 

Through  the  jar  and  mar  of  life, 
Though  each  rift  and  drift  and  seam 
Of  the  world's  sad  social  strife, 

Of  that  Bell— like  the  song  in  a  shell 
That  was  left  where  the  storms  were 
rife! 

O  Life  '•  as  thou  rendest  the  heart, 

O  death !  with  thy  loss  and  thy  pain 
Wilt  thou  gather  those  pieces  that  part? 

Wilt  thou  heal  up  those  fragments  again? 
Shall  we  {.rrasp  Heaven's  Music  and  Art 
When  we  clasp — in  God's  light — after 
rain? 

O  Harmonies  endless  and  vast 

Over  oceans  and  mountains  that  roll, 
Thy  infinite  broodings  must  last 

Fast  the  ripples  that  ruffle  the  soul! 
The  storm  and  the  pain  shall  flow  past, 
And  the  Peaee-of-tho-Lord  flood  the 
Whole ! 


Redivivit 


H    LITTLE  SOil  — 
A  little  rain— 
A  little  toil- 
Then  flowers  again  ! 

A  little  snow,  a  little  sun, 

And  lo  !  a  New  Spring  has  begun  ! 

So,  in  my  heart, 

On  earth  below  : 

A  little  smart  — 

A  passing  blow— 

A  breath  of  Love—  a  kindly  smile— 
And  lo  !  I  bloom  again  the  while  ! 

Pour  out  thy  grace 

Then,  friend  again  ! 

Show  smiling  face  ! 

Dismiss  the  rain  ! 

Breathe  out  Love's  fragrance  on  the  air, 
And  woo  me  from  the  world's  despair. 

For  lo  !  I  pass— 

As  pass  the  years  ! 

As  droops  the  grass- 

As  drop  the  tears  ! 

And,  ere  the  joy  of  Life's  begun, 
Behold  !—  Time's  golden  sands  are  run! 


us 


Th?  Giant  Sequoias 
of  the 


like  a  gathering  of  God 

wss 

What  Druid  lore  7e  know 


rites 


abo,(t 


What  mount,  the  forest 


gazed  aloft  in  awe 


nverts,  taught,  them  holy  rites? 
144 


The  birds  are  in  thy  branches  —  hark  their  song! 

Kternal  Nature's  Anthera  they  prolong  ! 
The  clambering  squirrel,  on  adoring  knees, 

Holds  up  his  grateful  hands!  amid  thy  trees  ! 
Then  why  not  man  —  frail  pigmy  of  the  dust- 
Learn  of  thee  how  to  live  and  how  to  trust? 

Great  Sentinels-of-Life  !  your  book  I  read! 

Dearer  and  clearer  far  than  human  creed  : 
The  strength  and  constancy  of  Truth  ye  tell; 

And  stalwart  Courage;  aye  !  ye  teach  them  well  ! 
While,  by  thy  verdant  Power  and  Peace,  we  grope 
I  ip  to  thy  sky-kissed  crowns  of  Faith  and  Hope  ! 

Pacific  Ocean 


i.,  wonderful  sea  ! 
^^      Opaline,  sun-kissed  and  calm, 
Stilled  come  Life's  murmurs  to  me, 

Softened  and  soothed  by  thy  charm  ! 
All  of  thy  tides,  in  their  flow, 

Bathe  me  with  peace  like  a  flood; 
All  of  my  mercy  I'd  know 

—  Pensive  and  healing  of  mood. 

Out  of  the  East  with  its  rush, 

Storm  wrack  and  frenzy  of  haste, 
Into  the  West  with  its  hush, 

Come  I  —  thy  kindness  to^ste. 
Burdened  with  weariness  sad, 

Chastened  with  heart  over-worn, 
Shrinking  from  worldliness  mad, 

Loathing  its  blight  and  its  scorn  ! 

Ocean  so  mighty!  so  calm! 

Bountiful,  beautiful  Sea! 
Gather  me  into  Thine  Arm- 

Restful,  benignant  and  free  ! 
Shield  me  from  sorrow  and  harm, 

Over  me  let  thy  peace  be, 
Cover  me  save  from  alarm  — 

Wonderful,  worshipful  Sea! 
Ill 


Song  of  the  Silver  Sea 

JJJ Y  curving  harp  is  the  wandering  Shore ! 

Kadi  string  is  a  silvery  wave! 
My  fingering  winds  play  evermore 
Those  notes  so  light  and  grave ! 

Each  rainbow'd  shell  is  a  winding  key, 
The  foam  flecks  ever  lave ! 

Above,  I  spread  my  angel  wings 

Of  sunlit,  fleecy  cloud ! 
And  o'er  the  bars  my  deep  surf  sings, 
In  surges  soft  and  loud ! 

Of  every  sparkling  note  it  rings 
My  Nature-Soul  is  proud ! 

The  sea  gulls  are  my  choristers ; 

And  stormy  petrels  cry; 
Through  every  floating  reed  that  stirs 
My  murmurs  softly  die; 
They  rise  and  fkll  where  the  sea    mrw 

whirs ; 
Along  the  shores  they  lie ! 

My  basso  is  the  tempest  shock 
^That  round  my  islands  raves, 
When  great  ships  wreck  upon  some  rock, 
Or  'whelm  them  in  their  graves ! 
I  play  the  requiem  to  their  souls 
With  tears  my  storm-clouds  have! 

But,  softer  than  the  songs  of  love, 
When  full  moon  moves  my  tide, 
The  music  of  my  bright  chords  rove 
And  on  the  winds  abide; 

Then  droop,  at  last,  like  nesting  dove 
On  slumbering  mountainside. 

O!    Who  shall  sing  my  deep  Sea-Song? 

What  poet  wild  and  free? 
He  must  be  pure  from  greed  and  wrong 
If  he  would  chant  with  me ! 
God   tune   his   heartstrings,    tense  and 

strong, 
Throughout  Eternity ! 


149 


Columbus 


eivr.  to  the  winds  our  sail ! 
Let  every  spar  be  manned  ! 
Hail  to  a  new  world  !  Hail ! 
I  see  a  glorious  strand 

Over  the  bounding  deep ! 
Let  no  true  hero  sleep ! 

Not  gold  alone,  nor  gems, 
Nor  fragrant  spices  rare; 
Not  courts  nor  diadems, 
But  matchless  mountains  fair! 

Vast  stream  and  inland  sea  ! 

— And  vaster  Liberty  ! 

On  !  to  the  New  World  speed  ! 

Now  Fate  and  Time  befriend ! 

Our  love  shall  fill  each  need, 

And  Freedom  never  end  ! 

There,  where  the  gods  are  vast, 
Let  Truth  and  Wisdom  last! 

Cast,  far  behind,  each  fear ! 
Each  grovelling  greed  or  hate ! 
Bright  hope  and  faith  draw  near  ! 
And  carping  cares  abate  ! 

On  to  the  brighter  shore ! 

Heed  old  world  crimes  no  more! 

Leave  despots  far  behind  ! 

Let  war  and  ravin  cease  ! 

God's  Grace  breathes  on  the  wind  ! 

Lead  on  O  Prince  of  Peace  ! 

Friends,  guard  forevermore 
That  holier,  happier  Shore  ! 


147 


Th?  Broncho-Buster 


PTERE  he  comes ! — dark  and  swarth  ! 
*-*  Just  in  from  the  grim  North, 

Where  the  winds  drive 

And  the  herds  thrive; 
With  his  "kit"  he  sallies  forth  ! 

Under  his  broad  sombrero 
On  his  black  stud  Nero, 

Straight  astraddle 

Traps  and  saddle — 
With  a  guy  saving,  and — a  cheer-o ! 

Cartridge,  belt,  and  gun; 
And  a  keen  taste  for  fun  ! 

Stogies  a  few — 

Pistols— lasso — 
And  his  spurs  for  a  run  ! 

Give  him  a  good  snug  pack 
Well  girt,  so  it  won't  rack! 

He's  away 

With  the  dawn  o'  day! 
O  he's  a  "cracker- Jack"! 

Give  him  a  bronco  frisky, 
And  a  stiff  snack  o'  whiskey! 

That's  his  style 

Many  a  mile — 
Pike's  Peak  to  San  Franciskv ! 


Little  he  recks  of  rain, 
Or  of  long  ride  and  strain  ! 
Clean  and  trim 
He's  a  "Dandy-Jim" ! 
Full  of  good  brawn  and  brain. 

'Snap  for  danger — he  cares! 

What  man  can  do  he  dares ! 
Up  steep  Sierra- 
Down  deep  Aroya— 

Wolves — panthers — or  bears ! 

O  but  the  breeze  is  his  breath 
Derring  do!— life  or  death!— 

Torrents ! — or  snows  ! 

So  he  goes ! 
Here's,  to  his  brow,  a  Wreath ! 


TKs  Coyote 

BARK  !  I  hear  the  coyote  call 
As  the  ghostly  shadows  fall ! 
As  the  night  wind  sighs  and  moans 
O'er  the   desert's  bleaching  bones! 

"Ha!   Ha!    Ha!"  he  grimly  laughs 
As  he  scents  the  tamedog  paths. 


"Bah!"    he  sniffs;  "the  cowards  sleep 
In  the  corral  with  the  sheep, 
Fenced  about  with  traps  and  guns, 
Knowing  naught  where  wild  game  runs. 
And  they  drowse  and  take  their  ease, 
Craven,  fawning,  full  of  fleas  ! 

H9  (over) 


"Naught  they  know  of  Bruin's  tracks 
Nor  of  fleet  deer  in  their  packs ; 
Nor  of  partridge,  nor  of  plover, 
Nor  of  rabbit  in  his  cover; 

Nor  the  swift  race  down  the  wind 

For  the  buffalo  and  hind ! 

"See  them  wag  their  tails,  and  stand 
Whining  round  to  lick  some  hand 
That  will  throw  them  crumbs  of  bread!— 
Btit  put  collars  on  their  head  ! 

Chain  them  to  some  post  to  bark ! 

Timid  fools,  afraid  of  dark ! 

"Parasites  of  greed  and  grease  ! 

How  they  envy  my  release  ! 

Free  as  eagle — where  I  roam; 

All  of  Nature  is  my  Home! 
All  alone  I  win  my  Life 
And  I  conquer  storm  and  strife ! 

"Ha!    Ha!   Ha!   they  fear  my  gangs, 
And  my  rip  of  razor  fangs, 
And  they  dare  not  try  my  jaws, 
So  they  think  I'll  heed  their  'laws' ! 

Never  jump  their  fat  pig  pens ! 

Never  fright  their  foolish  hens ! 

"Ha!    Ha!    Ha!    the  hypocrites ! 

How  they  wish  they  had  my  wits! 

And  my  wisdom  born  of  grief! 

And  my  spirit's  wide  relief! 

—  For  they  'eat  the  sheep*  —  the  sam*!- 
Very  moral ! — yes !—  in  -name  /" 


ISO 


Ths  Stomy  Petrel 

(After  Maxim  Gorky.) 

_R  the  shrieking  wind — 

And  the  tempest  roar ! 
And  the  fierce  wild  wrack 
On  the  shaking  shore ! 

I  care  not  for  that  cry  ! 

I  sail  on  high— on  hi^h  ! 

I,  the  Storm  petrel,  fly  ! 

I  dare  the  rough  rain 
In  its  cruel  rage! 
No  little  wren — I — 
In  a  wicker  cage  ! 

I  love  the  storm !  the  storm  ! 

I  brave  its  brume  and  harm ! 

Its  lightning  flash  is  warm. 

Low,  with  my  bold  wing, 
I  flick  the  wet  wave; 
Then  heavenward  spring 
From  that  swirling  grave  ! 

Hark !  to  my  glad,  far  call ! 

Over  the  billows  wall 

Hope  do  I  bear  to  all ! 

Harbinger,  high  and  free, 
Of  man's  victory! 
Foam-flecked  and  sea-spumed— 
To  the  rock-torn,  doomed 

And  wrecked,  I  cry:  "Fight  on! 

Strong  arms  the  life-boat  man  ! 

Brave  hearts  to  shore  have  won!' 

Parting  the  cloud  wreath — 
Laughing  at  vain  death — 
Lo!  I  gain  fresh  strength 
From  the  storm's  fierce  breath! 

Joyous,  I  rise  and  run ! 

For  I  know  that  the  Sun 

when  the  storm  is  don*! 

111 


Port  Arthur 

£*HE  battle  is  on  at  the  throat  of  Port  Arthur ! 
V^  There's  naught  of  the  danger  the  brave  Jap  will 

care  for. 

He  sails  against  death  on  his  fire  ship  fearful, 
No  thought  now  of  home  nor  of  little  ones  tearful, 

But  only  to  die  as  he  thinks  that  he  ought  to, 
^  With  this  one  last  cry  as  he  sinks-which  he  fought  to- 
Mikado!  Mikado.'  long  live  the  Mikado! 

For  what  is  the  Meaning-  so  vast  that  he  gives  to 

This  death  cry  of  his,    to  the  "sacred  Mikado?" 
1  is  the  dream  of  his  life  that  he  ever  prove  "faithful  " 

Nor  ever  surrender,  nor  yield  back -disgraceful-  ' 
His  Hope  of  a  Home  in  the  Botom-of-Buddha  ' 
Not  death  but  dishonor  he  thinks  of  with  shudder- 

And  cries:  "0  Mikado!  Long  live  the  Mikado!" 

For  higher  than  kings  he  discerns  The  Celestial! 
And  baser  than  demons  he  knows  is  the  Bestial! 
He  too  seeth  "Christos"— he  too  hateth  "Nero !" 
And  cries:  "Down  with  despots!"  and  dies  a  true  hero' 

Not  names  but  the  Essence-of- Right,  is  eternal! 

He  loves  the  Divine  as  he  hates  the  Infernal! 
Though  he  dies,  still   he  cries:  "0  G'od  bless  the   Mi 
kado!" 

'Tis  not  the  poor  Mujik  in  arms,  he  reproaches; 
But  inhuman  Czar— who  deceives  and  encroaches! 
Hypocrisy  fails,  but  Man's  Heart  stands  revealed ! 
God  cares  not  for  titles,  but  motives  unsealed ' 

On  one  side  is  Greed-Human  Right  on  the  other! 

Ine  time  comes,  when  man  must  treat  man  an  a 

Brother!" 
So  true  men  re-echo:    "God  bless  the  Mik«</<> .'" 


Above  the  Forest  Fire 

OVEK  the  mountain  range 
I  rode  before  the  fire, 
Watching  the  wild  wind  change ; 
Clambering  ever  higher! 
A  race  for  gasping  breath  ! 
A  race  with  burning  death  ! 

Down  in  the  vale  below 

I  scanned  the  roaring  tide; 
The  fierce  and  red-black  glow, 
Curling  its  neck  in  pride 
Like  a  copper  cobra's  coil 
Seeking  man's  hopes  to  foil! 

Where  now  the  morning  pure 

And  the  cool  dawn  serene; 
The  cabins  with  flower's  allure ; 
The  peaceful  orchards  green? 
Look  at  the  fire's  swath! 
And  the  smoke's  ghostly  wraith  ! 

Such  is  man's  life  on  eartli ! 

In  youth  his  heart  is  clean ; 
Fair  the  loved  home  of  birth; 

And  the  paths  were  joy  has  been; 
Then  comes  the  World's  hot  breath ! 
The  soul's  grim  fight  with  death ! 

Mount  on  thy  steed  O  Soul ! 

Spur  Faith!  and  upward  flee! 
Rise  to  the  truth  of  The  Whole ! 
— Bright  through  eternity. 
Faint  not,  nor  fail,  nor  stop ! 
Safe  thou  shalt  reach  the  top ! 

Then  as  the  flames  recoil 

And  the  heats  of  the  red  blood  cease ; 
Thou  shalt  ride  back — and  foil 
Their  ravin ;  and  rest  in  peace  ! 
Then  shalt  Life's  vale,  for  you, 
Blossom  with  flowetets  new ! 

1*1 


Hamaguchi 

(T±  Y  the  shore  of  the  Sea  of  Japan, 
^^      On  the  hill  in  the  sunlight  aglow. 
Haraaguchi — as  old  legend  ran— 

Lived  and  watched,  where  the  wild  waters  flow 
From  the  shore  to  the  deep-sounding  sea; 

And  grew  part  of  its  Grand  Symphony. 

In  his  heart  bloomed  a  broad  Nature  Love 
With  its  warmth  and  its  rich  overflow, 

Coming  down  from  those  spirits  above 
Who  man's  trials  and  suffering  know. 

So  he  blended  his  life  with  the  poor, 

And  the  needy  ne'er  turned  from  his  door. 

Till  at  last,  growing  feeble  and  old, 

While  he  harvests  his  crops  on  the  hill; 

He  felt  that  vast  submarine  roll 
Of  an  Earthquake's  unspeakable  thrill ! 

While  the  waters  drew  back  from  the  strand 
And  uncovered  the  shell-bestrewn  sand. 

He  beheld  how  the  people,  amazed 

At  the  treasures  and  wonders  revealed, 

Hurrried  down  to  the  sea  shore,  adazed, 

To  collect  the  strange  wealth  long  concealed  ! 

Then  the  heart  in  his  bosom  froze  fast 

When  he  felt  that  such  tide  could  not  last  ! 

He  recalled  how,  to  him  as  a  lad, 

His  grandfather  told  of  the  day 
When  such  sudden  catastrophe  sad 

Had  swept  a  whole  village  away 
From  an  island  far  north  of  this  home ! 

Such  a  tide !  with  its  fearful  Mf  row*  ! 


So  he  hasted  and  lighted  a  match 

And  set  burning  his  ricks  far  and  wide, 

Till  he  drew  up  the  folk  to  his  thatch 
And  away  from  the  back-setting  tide. 

They  came  climbing1  with  friendship's  desire 
To  rescue  his  crops  from  the  fire. 

Yet  no  sooner  were  all  safe  on  high, 
Than  old  Ocean,  with  on-rush  and  roar, 

Poured  its  might  to  engulf — and  swept  by — 
Till  the  hamlet  existed  no  more  ! 

Then  the  people  such  gratitude  felt 
That  in  awe  at  his  Spirit  they  knelt. 

And  they  builded  their  town  once  again. 

And  erected  a  wonderful  shrine, 
With  its  legend  of  Love,  to  explain 

How  his  deed  through  the  ages  should  shine  ! 
And  they  worshipped,  with  beauty  and  fart, 

That  Spirit-of-Love  in  his  heart. 

Then  they  tell  how  his  modesty,  true, 
Never  claimed  any  "prize"  or  "reward," 

For  that  love  so  unselfish,  which  flew 
To  their  rescue — at  loss  of  its  hoard; 

But  he  knelt  with  them,  meekly,  to  pray 
To  That  God  that  had  prompted  that  way\ 


15ft 


Ths  New  Da/ 

VTTX  SEE  the  young  moon  glow 
•*»  Like  a  slight,  slender  bow 

In  the  West! 
Like  a  gold  canoe  frail, 
That  doth  float  and  sail 

On  the  blue  night's  breast! 

Like  a  gem  at  the  horn 
Of  the  coming  morn 

Hesperus  shines; 
At  the  tip  of  the  prow 
Of  the  moon's  bright  bow 

When  night  declines. 

0  for  the  New  Day 
When  Love's  roundelay 

Shall  be  heard  ! 
Brighter  than  glittering  gen) 
Or  than  flowering  stem 

Or  song  of  bird  ! 

Then  shall  My  Lore  be  known! 
And  shall  hold  its  high  throne 

In  Life's  Heart! 
She  shall  turn  the  New  Page, 
And  Earth's  grief  assuage 

With  God's  Art. 


Song  of  the  Rain  Drops 


hear  the  raindrops,  Mother  ! 
«      Wake  up  and  let  us  look  ! 
It  surely  is  no  other  — 
I  hear  that  little  brook! 

That  soft  and  quiet  patter 
Upon  the  old  farm  roofs! 
That  sweet  and  gentle  clatter 
That  brings  to  me  th*  proofs  ! 

lift 


How  long  we  watched  and  waited 

To  let  the  drought  drag  past, 
Thank  God  it's  now  abated! 
We  hear  sweet  drops  at  last ! 

We've  toiled  and  pinched  in  sorrow, 
Our  tears  were  all  the  rain ; 
We've  saved  and  skimped  and  bor 
rowed, 
We  seemed  to  pray  in  vain ! 

O  God!  how  dear  that  tinkle 

Where  those  bright  raindrops  fall ! 
How  pure  and  blest  they  twinkle 
Upon  the  old  stone  wall ! 
The  birds  sing  all  the  sweeter ! 
The  dry  earth  drinks  her  fill ! 
While  down  the  canyon  fleeter 
There  flows  that  silver  rill! 

Old  father  was  so  weary 

With  months  of  arid  toil! 
The  land  had  grown  so  dreary, 
So  hard  and  cracked  the  soil; 
The  pasture  lands  lay  naked; 
The  cattle  drooped  and  died ; 
The  crops  fell  sear  and  bak-ed 
Upon  the  mountainside ! 

Hark!  hear  those  raindrops  Mother! 

Each  flower  is  filled  with  joy ! 
That's  fruit  and  grain  and  clover ! 
That's  plenty  of  employ! 
I  see  the  blossoms  bursting  ! 
The  pastures  green  and  rank! 
No  hunger  more,  nor  thirsting ! 
There's  money  in  the  bank! 


Drop  by  Drop 


/•ffv  grass  plot 

>M      With  flowers 

Has  a  spot 

Where  fresh  showers 

Flash  from  cool  water  tube 
And  do  the  grass  good  ! 

When  my  man 

Winds  his  hose, 
Takes  his  can — 
Homeward  goes- 
Birds  fly  to  drink 
To  the  pipe's  bright  brink! 

Drop  by  drop 

Fall  the  clear 
Pearls — and  don't  stop, 
But  appear 

One  by  one  in  the  sun, 
As  they  sparkle  and  run ! 

Robins  red, 

Lark  and  linnet, 
And  the  goldfinch 
Dip  in  it; 

And  the  gay  mocking  bird 
With  his  quaint  pranks  absurd. 

But,  alas ! 

One  by  one 
Must  they  drink 
And  be  done; 

For  the  nectar  comes  c.hoicr— 
They  drink  fast  <nnl  rejoice.' 

Ah,  dear  friend, 

Such  is  Life! 
It  must  end — 

And  the  strife 

Iff 


For  the  pearls  cannot  last ! 
Oim  by  one  they  drop  past.! 

Let  us  drink 

)  \'rhil#  ice.  may ! 
Link  by  link! 
Day  by  day ! 

While  Love's  golden  drops  run! 
l^iist  they  fly  to  the  sun  ! 

TQ  a  Pupil  in  Art 

is  Beauty  ?  What  is  Art? 
Tell  us  Nature  from  thy  heart ! 
"Ah,  my  child,  glance  round  and  see— 
Open  eye  and  bended  knee  ! 

Everywhere  through  endless  space 
One  eternal  Plan  I  trace — 
Ever  one  supreme  Desire 
To  UKFOLD  and  to  ASPIRK! 

God  within  and  God  around ! 
Dost  thou  feel  His  Soul  profound 
Breathing  on,  from  age  to  age  ! 
— Opening  Nature  page  by  pager 

Evermore  succeeding  years 
Each  its  perfect  message  bears  ! 
Every  stage,  through  every  part, 
Glowing  bright  with  beauteous  Art  ! 

'Beauty'  is — the  perfect  Plan! 
1 Arf  is — that  revealed  to  man  ! 
'Beauty*  is — God's  hidden  Grace! 
'Art' — the  features  of  His  Face! 

These  we  love,  and  these  we  seek, 
With  a  conscience  brave  yet  meek ! 
Till  they  glow  like  noonday  sun — 
// fi<i  I<«H-OH- Earth  in  thvis 

169 


Beauty  for  Ashes 


<YF.KD  thy  Soul — but  no  longer  on  husks  \ 
On  husks  that  the  dull  swine  do  eat! 
Let  them  rend  thee  no  more  with  their  tusks 
Nor  trample  thee  down  with  their  feet ! 
The  swine  of  brute  ravin   and  greed 
Who  think  life  was  made — "just  to  feed"'. 

God  grant  thee  the  glory  of  Light 
Let  thy  soul  once  awake  to  His  Day  ! 

Open  up'all  the  wonders  of  Sight 

That  in  splendors  of  Paradise  play 
Over  mountain  and  ocean  and  glen 
And  the  minds  of  brave  man-loving  men  ! 

All  the  dreams  that  sleep  under  the  hills ! 
And  the  lark's  song — the  nightingale's  lay  — 

To  the  Spirit  that  fair  Nature  fills ; 

And  the  truths  that  the  wise  prophets  say 
Through  the  ages — with  wisdom  afire 
In  the  blaze  of  Life's  brightest  Desire  ! 

Seek  the  key  !  and  the  trance  of  that  Door 
Where  Aladdin  once  entered,  and  found 
Life's  Palace  and  gem  covered  Floor — 
Where  the  treasures  of  Knowledge  abound  ! 
Let  it  fill  thee  with  Wonder  and  Love, 
Ere  Death  bear  thee  from  Earth — far  above ! 

Thou  art  bound  for  the  Star-Fields-of-Light ! 
This  cold  world  was  not  meant  for  thy  home ! 

Mere  Greed  tramples  the  Truth  and  the  Right ! 

And  the  meek  in  deep  misery  roam ! 

Here  the  good  and  the  just  are  crushed  down 
For  the  bauble  of  Mammon's  base  crown  ! 

Peed  thy  Sotdl — but  no  longer  on  huxksl 

Spread  thy  wings  to  the  light  of  the  Sun! 
Rise  above  the  dank  odors  and  dusk 
Of  the  Night ! — thou  hast  yet  for  to  run  ! 
Speed  thy  steed  for  the  Land  of  the  Dawn  ! 
Lo  !  the  light*  of  the  Incoming-  Morn  ! 
t«Q 


Trif  Poet's  Mihd 


K  is  the  Land  of  Minstrelsy? 
*     Deep  in  that  vale  called  Mystery  ! 
Where  shadows  droop  o'er  eyelids  sad 
Yet  verdure  blooms  by  cool  springs  glad; 
And  all  throughout  that  sheltered  gloom 
The  soul  expands — in  Heavenly  room  ! 
The  Spirit  breathes  enchanted  air 
Bright  tenanted  by  Visions'  fair  ! 

Where  is  that  Land  of  Arcady  ? 
Where  Love  is  deep  and  rich  and  free ! 
And  worldly  tortures  cease  to  irend, 
And  Peace  eternal  doth  descend, 

Upon  the  weary  Human  Heart! 

Where  lovers  meet  no  more  to  part 

Because  their  lives  are  true  and  free ! 

That  is  that  "Land-of-A  ready"  ! 

Ah  !  vesper  bells  begin  to  toll 
And  chant  sweet  slumbers  to  the  soul, 
The  false  world's  fashion,  pride,  and  heat, 
Pale,  pass,  and  fade  beneath  our  feet; 

Lo !  now  the  stars  of  Hope  appear  ! 

Kind  harvest  crowns  the  waiting  year  ! 

Clasped,  heart  to  heart,  Faith  journies  on 

To  those  fair  "Isles  of  Avalon"! 


1*1 


Th?  Bridegroom  Cometh 


("All  doth  suffer  a  sea  chnn^r 
Into  something  rare  .ind  strange-" 

—Coleridge.) 


J^IME  flies!  and  with  it  change  the  moon's 
^  Slow  phases,  ever  with  the  tide's  strong  swa\  : 
The  changing  seasons ;  and  the  passing  day ; 
As   now  the   old   year,   passing,  to   his   death  bed 
swoons ! 

I  see  and  hear  A  Voice  which  cries:    "Prepare! 
O  world  of  shadows,  for  thy  Bridal  night! 
The  Bridegroom  cometh!  let  thy  torches  light! 
His  voice  melodious  haunts  the  Christmas  air! 

His  step   is  heard  upon  thy  chamber  sill, 
O  Mother,  drooping  to  the  manger's  hay  ! 
A  light  more  radiant  than  the  Birth  of  Day 
Beams  on  thy  Beauty— where  thou  watchest  still  ! 

He  comes  !  Thy  Maker  and  thy  Lover  Host ! 
And  with  Him,  all  the  ages  change  to  Spring! 
Hark!  hear  the  angels,  and  their  anthems  ring ! 
Sound !  Sound  the  Coming  of  the  Holy  Ghost ! 

All  tides  shall  change,  and  set  them  to  His  Star! 
And  all  the  watchers  through  the  world's  long  night 
Shall  bless  the  Coming  of  His  Beauty  bright, 
And  hail,  with  rapture,  His  Triumphal  Car !" 


IK* 


Th?  Dawn  of  the  New  Year 


/*KHK  midnight  bell  is  tolling  out  the  year, 
^""^  And  ringing  in  the  mellow  chimes  of  change ; 
Old  griefs  are  passing  with  a  silent  tear, 
New  times  are  coming  with  a  gladsome  cheer! 
And  opening  out  the  soul  to  wider  range  ! 

What  shall  it  be?  O  wondrous  SOUL  of  things 
That  moveth  vast,  across  the  realms  of  space  ! 
What  are  the  joys  thy  glorious  Spirits   bring, 
What  are  the  songs  thy  seraph  chorals  sing, 

As,  down  the  track  of  Time,  the  Centuries  race? 

I  hear  the  chant  of  Harmonies  serene  ! 
The  songs  of  Love  and  Beauty  fill  the  air! 
The  picture  grows — of  Knowledge  on  the  screen; 
The  Wisdom  of  the  ages  that  have  been ; 
The  melodies  of  Hope — beyond  despair ! 

I  see  a  vision  of  a  world  redeemed 
By  Grace  and  Goodness;  and  by  Truth  embraced! 
I  see  the  triumph  of  a  Faith — that  seemed 
O'ercorae  by  tyrannies,  and  foes  that  schemed, 
But  fell  before  it  and  that  died  disgraced  ! 

I  see  the  Heaven  of  a  Host— upheld 
By  peaceful  Labor  and  by  Conscience  clear ! 
I  see  returning  all  the  charms  of  eld 
When  Eva  span  and  honest  Adam  delved, 

/  know  the  Christ  Age  Coming! — yes  'tin  here  .' 


Vita  Noova 


comes  a  creeping  through  the  bush, 
Through    melting  snows,  through   cane  and 

rush, 

With  green  tips  peeping  by  the  rill, 
And  laughing  with  the  daffodil ! 

"Ha  !  ha  !"  she  cries,  with  jocund  smile, 
"Old  friends !  I've  lost  thee  for  awhile. 
I've  been  to  Heaven  to  see  my  Queen, 
But  now  return  with  Beauty's  sheen! 

I  bring  God's  blossoms  in  my  hair; 
I  bring  His  fragrance  through  the  air: 
I  bring  the  joyous  dancing  brooks; 
I  bring  the  song  birds  nesting  nooks ! 

Go  forth !  O  man— into  My  field 
And  gather  all  My  Bosoms  yield ! 
For  thee  I've  born  the  corn  and  wine, 
Sweet  pea,  sweet  grape,  sweet  eglantine ! 

But.  for  this  grace,  O  child !  beware 
Lest  thou  thy  brother  man  ensnare! 
All  gifts  are  in  My  Garden  grand, 
But  from  Greed' ft- Apple— hold  thy  handF 


Easter  CHoristers 


aT  my  window  I  hear  them  —  the   sweet  singing 
birdlets ! 

They're  here  with  their  anthems  so  joyous  and  clear. 
O'er  mountains  and  woodlands,  o'er  fountains  and 

fenlands 
They're  up  with  the  morning — melodious  and  pure ! 


Like  pearls  in  a  goblet  of  crystaline  clearness, 
All  shaken  with  sparkles  and  dancing  with  light! 
1  spring  from  my  slumbers  to  hear  their  sweet  num 
bers! 
The  Robin !  The  Bluebird !  The  Songsparrow  bright ! 

Now  tell  me  fond  songsters — with  Easter  arriving 
What  land  of  fair  Sunrise  you've  come  from-  remote? 
I'm  sure  there  were  angels,  and  songbells,  and  sweet 

smells 
From  flowerets  flaming  to  greet  every  note ! 


()  Land  so  surprising!  I'm  ever  surmising 

That  there  live  my  "Lost  ones"!  my  Heart   Loved! 

my  dears ! 
All  through  those  blest  numbers  that  waken   my 

slumbers, 
/  hear  their  fond  Voices!  Their  forms  shine  —  through 

fears  I 


Primavera 

!  Spring!  across  the  mountains  flaring! 
"  Whence  dost  thou  come-  so  jubilantly  airing 

Thy  gorgeous  robes  of  green, 

With  that  gay  fresh  sheen 
From  winds  and  snowflakes  pairing? 

Lo!  the  new  grass  bursts  with  glad  delight 
Out  of  the  frosty  land  and  winter's  night! 

With  a  Song  chanting — 

Far  and  haunting ! 
Sweet!  Sweet!  O  the  fair  sight! 

Now  birdlets  sing  to  each  fresh  flower! 
Rich  odor  ladens  each  spring  hour ! 

And  wild  woods  call 

To  Pan's  fond  thrall! 
And  Orpheus  woos  with  power! 

A  bright  star  beams  on  thy  brow  above 
And  red  lips  kiss  thy  whitewinged  dove ! 

Over  the  hills 

I  feel  the  thrills 
Of  young  Love  t   Love ! 


School  Bells 

pTLONG  the  highway  pass  the  little  folks  to  school 
'— *•  With  cloaks  afloat  and  golden  locks  a-flying; 
With  many  a  laugh  and  skip,  and  kiss  from  lip  to  lip, 
And  happy  voices  calling  and  replying ! 

The  blue  and  red  dress,  and  the  yellow  hat; 

The  pink  white  bodice,  apron,  and  all  that! 

The  bright  sunlight  goes  glinting  on  wee  shoes  that 

dance, 

And  daintiest  limbs  and  figures  floating  by  us, 
The   old   school   bell  is  tolling  measures  while  they 

prance, 

And  child-hearts  think:  'The  Principle  will  spy  us 
If  we  should  enter,  late,  the  portaled  door, 
And  lose  some  credit  from  our  merit  score !" 

Thus  all  of  us  are  children,  in  the  Wide  World  school, 
Where  the  Great  Master  of  Earth's  mightiest  books, 
Unrolls  His  lessons  long  of  centuries  of  rule, 
And,  down  the  sun's  aisle,  casts  His  lightening  looks! 
Then  turns  the  page  of  million  layered  rocks, 
And  shows  His  pictures  to  His  learning  flocks. 

While  from  the  Heavenly  Heights  I  hear  His  solemn 
Voice: 

"Sit  down — in  front]  all  proud  unruly  boys  ! 

Let  those  behind  look  up  !   And  let  the  weak  rejoice ! 

What  are  to  me  your  child  pomps  and  your  toys? 
Except  ye  take,  like  children,  mercies  given, 
Ye  shall  not  enter  in  My  Kingdom — HEAVEN!" 


Th?  Flight  of  the  Children 


do  they  come?  those  little  ones  bright, 
*^  With  their  locks  of  silk  and  their  eyes  of  light! 
With  their  lips  of  pink  and  their  teeth  of  pearl, 
And  the  halo  of  Heaven  in  every  curl? 

Only  the  God,  who  gave  them,  knows, 
Whence  each  cornea  and  whither  each  goes ! 

The  toys  are  strewn  on  the  nursery  floor 
And  questions  grow  from  more  to  more : 
"Papa  what's  this?"  and  "Mama  what's  that?" 
"Does  D-O-G  spell  horse  or  cat?" 

Only  the  Power  that  formed  it  knows 
How  that  little  Brain,  in  there,  grown ! 

Out  in  the  world's  wide  field  of  cares 
They  struggle  to  climb  'mid  our  weeds  and  tares; 
The  sun  grows  hot  and  the  storms  grow  cold, 
And  the  way  seems  long  ere  each  grows  old ! 
Only  the  Prince  who  gave  them  Day 
Knows  the  Path-of-The-King's-Highway .' 

Ah,  if  an  angel  takes  them  back 
Ere  worn  feet  faint  on  Life's  sad  track ; 
Ere  sin  can  blight  or  sorrow  has  stung-, 
Or  fond  hearts  pass  who  loved  them,  young ; 
Surely  the  God  who  filleth  Heaven, 
Loves  them  as  much  when  taken  as  given  I 

Fold  then,  those  little  hands,  white  and  still, 
And  say  through  thy  tears:  "It  is  God's  will!" 
Wond'rous  Author  of  Life  and  Death  ! 
Who  whispers,  when  giving  pulse  and  breath: 

"Suffer  the  children  to  come  to  me; 

They  abide  in  my  Breast  through  Eternity  J" 

ttt 


Just  from  Heaven 

©HIMMERING  fall  the  snow  flakes. 
Each  a  crystal  gem; 
Covering  white,  with  mantle  light, 

Every  branching  stem ! 
First,  like  scattered  pickets— 

"Here  and  there  a  man ;" 
Then  in  floes  of  thickest  snows— 
All  the  gathered  "clan"  ! 

Soft  and  low  they  falter 

Above  every  bush; 
Everywhere  an  altar  fair 

Stilled  in  holy  hush ! 
Countless  are  their  legions, 

And  their  hosts,  untold ! 
Seraphs  sure— from  Regions  pure 

Since  the  Days-of-old ! 

So  come  Souls  of  Infants 

Floating  down  to  Earth 
Strange  and  still  their  Entrance  Thrill ! 

Spotless  each,  at  birth ! 
Blighting  human  whirlwinds 

Brush  them  through  the  mire ! 
Till,  at  last,  from  sin  they're  past ! 

— Prison  terms  expire! — 


To  a  Child  who  Loved  Birds 

Francis,  once,  a  priest  of  old, 

Went  wandering  'round  the  world,  I'm 

told; 

And  everywhere  he  went,  he  prayed 
For  all  the  Beauties  God  had  made! 

He  blessed  the  Sun — so  bright  in  Heaven; 
He  blessed  the  Pleiad  Sisters — seven; 
He  blessed  the  Moon's  soft  silver  light; 
He  blessed  all  wonders  of  the  Night ! 

He  blessed  the  woodlands  sha  ied  rills; 
The  meadows  rich;  the  mighty  hills! 
He  blessed  the  flowers  that  bloom  so  fair; 
He  blessed  the  songbirds  in  the  air ! 


Like  Him — 1  know  a  little  maid 
With  whom  the  birds  are  not  afraid. 
They  gather  at  her  gentle  call 

Because — they  know  she  lores  them-  all ! 

Xow  this,  I'm  sure,  is  what  will  come 
When  God  His  creatures  "calleth  Home" : 
All  sweet  and  good  things  will  be  there 
Where  Form  and  Use  are  fit  and  fair! 


And  those,  like  Francis  and  this  child, 
Whose  hearts  are  loving,  kind  and  mild : 
To  whom  all  things — beneath — above- 
Are  ministrings  of  God's  Love; 

These  will  be  there  upon  His  Breast; 
Parts  of  the  wonders  He  expressed ! 
For  every  Grace  and  every  Heart 
Is  but  GOD'S  POETRY  and  ART! 
170 


Harbingers  of  Spring 

GRAY  winter  old ! 
Thy  waters  cold 
Have  melted  o'er  the  hills ; 
And  down  their  sides, 
In  laughing  tides, 

I  hear  the  rippling  rills! 

No  more — apart — 
My  frozen  heart 

Waits  by  its  dying  fires ; 
But  with  new  days 
And  songbirds  praise 

My  soul  sings  its  desires! 

On!  strong  Bird  Blue! 
So  brave  and  true, 

Starting  the  choral  song ! 
And  Robin  Red 
On  dancing  tread 

Flash  thou  the  fields  along! 

Sing!  Song  Sparrow  bright 
Sparkling  and  light 

Sounding  thy  silver  horn 
That  pierceth  clear 
Sleep's  drowzy  ear 

And  hails  the  Rising  Morn  ! 


From  Blackbird's  throat 
That  bubbling  note 

Thrilleth  across  the  moor! 
Hopes  rise  and  sink 
With  the  Bobolink 

That  chanteth  at  my  door! 


The  Catbird  calls 
As  twilight  falls 

On  his  rollicking  rondelav  ; 
My  heart-throbs  rush 
To  the  Hermit  Thrush 

As  he  mourns  to  the  dying  day ! 

O  wondrous  Soul 
Of  Nature  Whole, 

Chanting  Thy  many  parts  ! 
With  Thy  flaming  wings 
Thou  touchest  the  strings 

Of  our  aching  human  hearts  ! 

The  Snowbird's  youth 
The  Bluebird's  truth 

The  Sparrow's  joy — so  shrill ! 
The  Robin's  love 
For  his  nest  above 

The  waking  daffodil ! 

The  Blackbird's  pearls ! 
Bobolink's  swirls 

Through  the  hay  of  the  hillside  lush: 
And  the  sad  sweet  sigh 
Lost  in  the  sky 

Of  the  tender  Hermit  Thrush ! 

Spirits  of  Song ! 
Thy  chants  prolong 

Till  all  the  Earth  shall  thrill! 
And  Heaven's  great  light 
Shall  grant  full  sight 

OF  GOD'S  CHOIRS  INVISIBLE  - 


17-2 


California  Mocking  Birds 

QUAVERING  through  the  leaves,  under   the  bright 
new  moon; 

After  the  long  days  heat  and  the  dry  summer's  swoon ; 
Just  as  the  day  cools,  with  a  fresh  breeze  of  hope 
And  night  winds  sigh  over  the  meadows  slope. 
Transfixed — I  stop  to  list — 
While  those  rich  notes  insist ! 

Mellow,  yet  wild,  their  cry,  like  spectral  spirit  guest 
Of  the  deep  laden  woods !    How  my  quick  beating 

breast 

Starts  at  thy  liquid  song,  breathing  its  melody 
Like  some  divine  ethereal  threnody ! 

Our  pulses  swift  respond 

To  thy  brave  notes  so  fond! 

"Warble,  whistle  and  ripple!  wake!  whip-up!  ha!  ha!" 

Burgle,  bubble  and  frolic — a  rondelay  far ! 

Pearls  on  pearls  break  and  roll  like  bright  drops  from 

a  bowl 
And  they  thrill,  as  they  spill  in  a  rill,  o'er  my  Soul; 

Then  thou  laughest  so  light 

From  thy  rapturous  height ! 

ftarth  and  Heaven  are  combined,  in  thy  full  dulcet 

tone; 
North  and  South  pour  the  nectar  thy  throat  blends 

in  one ! 

Flute  and  flageolet,  bugle,  light  zithar,  guitar ! 
Diamond,  topaz  and  ruby!    Sun,  moon,  silver  star  ! 
Ripe  cherries  in  wine ! 
Orange  blossoms  divine  ! 

Genius  of  Songsters! — so  matchless  in  witchery  ! 
Nature  hath  fashioned  thee,  out  of  Her  Mystery  ! 
Soloist  marvelous  !  blending  all  voices  ! 
Thou  art  the  Master  in  whom  each  rejoices ! 
High  Priest  of  Passion ! 
for  our  Nation  ! 
173 


Meadow  Larks 


©RIGHT  pure  and  silvery  note 
Bubbling  from  happy  throat 
Of  meadow  lark ! 
How  do  I  wait  to  hear 
When  thy  sweet  call,  clear, 
Sings:  "Stranger!— hark!" 

Upon  the  dusty  way 
In  the  dull  heat  of  day 

As  I  plod  on; 

Thy  Voice  salutes  mine  ear 
As  from  a  bugle  clear; 

"Hear  my  bright  song!  " 

Sunlight  and  dawn  are  in  it ! 
Sweeter  than  thrush  or  linnet! 

No  robin's  note, 
No  wren  nor  oreole, 
Sings  from  so  pure  a  soul — 

Such  a  clear  throat ! 

Fain  must  I  stop  to  think ; 
Blue  bird's  or  Bobolink's 

Lingering  sweetness, 
Long  drawn  or  mellow  bright, 
Flows  not  with  touch  so  light — 

Crystalline  neatness ! 

Down  in  the  luscious  grass 
Where  fragrant  zephyrs  pass, 

Low  sleeps  thy  nest; 
Whispers  thy  mate  to  you  : 
"Humble  our  love — but  trite  ! 
fife,  is  best ."' 


174 


All  !  but  I  now  know  why 
Lark's  song,  in  azure  sky, 

Heard  once  by  poet, 
Made  him  think  angels  sany: 
And  his  own  notes  rang 

Like  thine — to  show  it! 


Th?  Song  Sparrow 

-Tpr  is  Spring  ! 
-*•»  And  the  ring 
Of  his  note 

Seems  to  float  through  the  air— 
With  a  glow 

And  a  flow — everywhere  ! 
With  such  silvery  cadence-so clear! 
"Sweet  !   Sweet  !   0  my  Love  in  so  sweet  !  " 

As  I  furrow 
And  harrow 
And  plow 

The  trench  narrow — midair 
He  darts 

Like  an  arrow — so  clear ! 
Myjdarling  Song  Sparrow  so  dear! 
"Sweet !  Sweet  /  O  Trite  Love  is  so  sweet  /" 


No  sorrow — 
O  sparrow — 
I'll  borrow 
From  furrow; 

Nor  plow,  for  the  morrow,  despair  ! 
Brave  Sparrow!  so  long  as  I  hear 
Thy  voice  so  divine- through  the  air ; 
"Sweet!   Sweet.'    O  God's  Love  is  so  snoeet!" 


17* 


The  Blackbird 

(TiLACK  with  his  glossy  coat 

^J  Shot  with  turquois  and  green, 

Irridescent  of  throat 

Like  some  peacock's  in  sheen, 
What  a  globular  note 
From  his  eyrie  doth  float ! 

In  the  dark  cypress  tree 

What  a  clatter  and  call! 

How  he  chatters  at  me 

From  the  old  Spanish  wall ! 

How  he  pipes  from  the  eaves 
To  his  friends  in  the  leaves! 

What  a  fondness  to  flock 
In  the  fields — in  the  street; 
Or  to  rush  to  some  rock 
And  rejoice  at  a  meet; 

There  to  gossip  and  spree 

As  at  "afternoon  tea"! 

How  like  "Jekyll  and  Hyde" 

Is  his  sombre  pretense; 

In  his  broadcloth  of  pride 

How  he  struts  on  the  fence, 

And  affects  the  night  shade 
For  a  dark  dress  parade ! 

But  he  winks  with  that  eye 
That  is  ringed  'round  with  white; 
Then — instead  of  a  sigh — 
Like  a  flash  of  bright  light, 

He  uncorks  a  rich  bottle  of  wine 
And  invites  you  to  dine ! 


17K 


Hear  it  fall  with  a  crash, 
Like  cascaded  champagne! 
With  abandon  and  dash 
Like  a  cloud  burst  of  rain ! 

Like  a  beaker  of  pfunch  from  a  bowl 

How  he  pours  out  his  soul  ! 

O  toper,  sepulchral  and  droll, 
What  a  "poseur"  you  are! 
With  a  gentleman's  elegant  role 
You  play  "dramatic  star" ! 

But,  like  Burns,  with  your  Music  Divine, 

How  you  toss  off  the  Wine! 


TK?  Snow  Bird 


>|<HAT  time  the  days  grow  short,  the  nights  grow 

VU  dark, 

And  stilled  the  song  of  linnet,  thrush,  and  lark; 

The  Snowbird  perches  on  his  silvery  twig, 

The  sunlight  glinting  from  each  radiant  sprig, 

Bespangled  with  the  magic  of  the  snow, 

And  scintillant  with  arrows  of  rainbow ! 


He  counts  their  diamonds  and  crystals  bright, 
Till  bursting-  with  the  Beauty  of  the  Light 
He  sounds  the  call  of  Courage,  Faith  and  Hope! 
Then   swims  across  the  dazzling  mountain  slope 
And  hides  him  in  the  Bosom-of-the-Pine. 


So  Heart-of-Love!  Thy  faithfulness  and  mine 

Shall  cheer  each  other,  as  the  days  decline ; 

And  sing  —  and  sing — and  sing  —  that  song  the 

Seraphs  know : 
"There  is  no  Night  above ! — no  Death  below  /" 

177 


Song  of  the  Linnets 


cheer!"  sing  the  linnets 
Through  rapturous  minutes, 
When  daylight  first  breaks 
And  the  golden  Dawn   streaks 
Through  the  rose  of  the  morning — so  bright! 
"Gone  !  gone  is  the  Night !  It  is  Light ! 

"We  have  buried  our  heads 

Under  eaves  of  the  sheds, 

Where  our  tender  broods  sleep; 

And  the  long  watch  we  keep 
Through  the  darkness  and  silence — till  dawn. 
It  is  morn !  It  is  morn!  It  is  morn  ! 

"Twitter,  twitter  !  and  call ! 

Every  Voice — one  and  all ! 

Tis  the  Conquest-of-Day  ! 

Let  us  sing !  let  us  play ! 
For  the  good  God  our  Victory  has  given ! 
Look  aloft  to  the  Day-Spring  of  Heaven  !  " 

So,  O  Soul !  do  I  hear, 
Bright  and  brave,  high  and  clear 
Through  the  night  watch  of  Life, 
O'er  its  care  and  its  strife: 

"It  shall  come!  Joy  and  home! 

And  the  wings  of  our  Soul  hall  find  room  ! 

"Never  doubt  nor  despair ! 

O'er  the  Sea — through  the  air — 

O'er  the  Earth— through  the  sky— 

In  the  sure  By  and  bye — 
There  is  Hope!  There  is  Peace!  It  shall  come! 
And  the  Love  in  our  Hearts  shall  find  Home?" 


ITS 


Humming  Bird 


flame  of  vibrant  fire 
Darting,  meteor  like,  midair! 
Fluttering  with  intense  desire, 
Flickering  here  and  flashing  there! 
Tiny  winged  Beam-of-Light 
Thou  art  Rapture  at  its  iheight ! 

Glittering  gem  of  Essence  fine, 

Drunk  with  ecstasy  of  Life  ! 

Courting  flowers  to  sip  their  wine — 

Searchest  thou  Celestial  wife  ? 

Art  thou  Cupid — sent  of  Jove — 
Quaffing  honey  from  each  Love? 

Art  thou  more?—  The  Soul  of  Art  ! 
Shot  by  Zeus— from  Empyrean  ! 
Gathering  nectar  from  each  heart ; 
Poising  but  to  pour  thy  paean 

On  the  drowzy  summer  freeze  ! 

Chanting  with  the  murmuring  bees  ! 

Like  some  hymn  from  sea  shell  horn, 
While  thy  form  of  stainglass  glows; 
Like  the  dewdrops  of  the  morn 
Shattered  by  the  bright  rainbows : 
Quivering  petals  wide  apart 
'Till  thou  thrill  them  with  thy  dart ! 

O  thou  sprite  of  Genius  rare  \ 

Pregnant  with  the  Bliss  of  Heaven  ! 

Dissipating  Earth's  despair, 

And  infusing  Eden's  leaven ! 

Nevermore  shall  Life  grow  dull, 
Radiant  Quest  \ — most  wonderful  \ 


Trt?  Emerald  Lizard 

(To  a  little  srirl's  pet  lizard.) 


E  lizard,  lithe  and  light, 
*~     Flashing  in  the  sunshine  bright  ! 

How  you  startle 

Dash  and  sparkle  — 
Through  my  range  of  watchful  sight  ! 

What  a  little  witch  to  play  ! 
How  you  flash  and  flame  away  ! 

Running  fire  — 

To  admire  — 
But  not  handle  nor  waylay  ! 

So  I  softly  step  and  watch  : 
It  would  never  do  to  catch 

Such  a  sprite  — 

Dainty  wight  — 
That  no  lightning's  tongue  can  match  ! 

Trembling  like  some  poet's  heart 

With  quick  pangs  that  stream  and  start- 

Glint  and  glide- 

Glance  and  slide  — 
Through  the  colored  flowers  that  part  —  ! 

For  of  all  the  beams  that  burn 
Eager  hearts  that  pulse  and  yearn, 

Naught  I  know 

With  such  glow,  — 
As  to  lambent  Fire  you  turn  ! 


180 


Emerald  Gauze  Fly 

(Found  burnt  under  a  lump.) 

little  gem  of  light, 

With  thy  gauze  wings  so  slight, 

Cerulean  clear! 
Like  raindrop's  spangled  bow 
Or  twilight's  after-glow 

Over  the  meer. 

Like  some  Greek  eerie  fay 
Humming  thy  rondelay 

To  the  young  moon  ! 
In  some  font's  silver  spray, 
Where  nymphs  their  limbs  lay, 

And  fair  fauns  swoon ! 

Light  as  a  dream — and  frail ! 
Born  in  the  starlight  pale, 

That  could  not  last ! 
"Peri"  at  Heaven's  Gate 
Thy  spirit  could  not  wait, 

Thou  must  live  fast! 

Dropping  from  Eden's  bower 
In  thy  bright  passion's  hour 

Earthward  you  came. 

Scintillant sacred— minute  ! 

Saw  death — and  dashed  in  it! 

Parsed  wp  in  Flame. 


tsi 


Bright  Diamond 


divine ! — with  eye  of  Truth  \ 
*     Thou  art  Life's  first  fair  Light-of- Youth 
When  pure,  serene,  it  comes  from  Heaven 
Fresh  lit — by  God's  own  Genius  given  ! 

What  brilliance  must  there  ever  be 
Inherent,  deep,  inborn  in  thee  ! 
The  shimmer  of  thy  crystal  walls 
As  clear  as  woodland  waterfalls ! 

Thou  art  the  corner  stone  of  Law, 
The  oraflamme  of  Righteous  War, 
The  trenchant  Point  to  Justice'  spear, 
The  aureole  of  sage  and  seer ! 

What  radiance  on  thy  royal  path ! 
What  majesty  thy  glorious  wrath  ! 
Thy  facets  clearing  their  bright  Way 
With  rapier  edge  and  quenchless  ray  ! 

O  worshipful  and  wonderful ! 
Resplendent  Pharos  beautiful ! 
Translucent  flames  of  Force  Divine 
That  from  the  holy  planets  shine  ! 

Reveal  thy  solemn  mysteries — 

Thy  vast  unflecked  infinities ! 

Led  by  thy  beams  imperial  strength, 

Victorious  crown  Life's  journey's  length  ! 


182 


Sapphire  Stone 

COOL  is  the  blue  of  thy  sheen 
Gem  of  celestial  Peace  serene, 
Facet  of  frozen  fire  ! 
Glacial  in  Love's  desire ! 
How  boldest  thou  fast  thy  ray 
Since  the  dawn  of  that  First-Day? 

Thou  art  a  fleck  of  azure  Sky 
Calmly  reserved,  translucent,  high; 

Or  a  globule  of  blue 

Cerulean  in  hue, 

That  the  Gods  dropped  in  some  lake 
Where  the  young  brooklets  break; 

Where  the  bright  waves  ramble  and  play, 
And  sun  glints  the  livelong  day! 

But  to  fierce  crystal  ice 

Thou  art  grown  in  a  thrice, 
When  the  frost  winds  of  the  North, 
And  the  white  snow  sallies  forth ! 

Does  thy  bright  edge  cut  keen  and  sharp  ? 
Aye,  but  thou  art  vEolean  harp 

Tightly  strung  and  intense 

In  thy  vibrant  suspense; 
Till  thy  heart  chords — wild  and  free — 
Hear  thy  true  skies  summon  thee ! 

So  let  thy  bright  purity  flow ! 

How  far — the  First  Gods,  only  know! 

Let  thy  radiance  shine 

Pensive  crystal  divine ! 
All  the  world's  woes  and  cares 
Fade  where  thy  bright  Blue  flares ! 

IPS 


"It*  RuLy 


Heart  of  Flame! 

"Ruby-Red"— be  thy  name! 
Crimsoned  like  blushing  rose — 
Tho'  as  pure  as  the  snows ! 

Rich,  like  blood  of  the  wine 

On  its  lees— to  refine ! 

Thou  dost  Life's  pain  transfix 
On  Love's  strong  crucifix! 
All  its  tears— all  its  sighs- 
All  its  deep  sacrifice! 
All  its  passions,  aglow, 
Such  as  Gods,  only,  know ! 

When  the  Christ  stooped  his  head 
And  drooped  down  to  the  dead 
With  the  wound  in  his  side 
From  man's  blindness  and  pride; 

His  blood  drop  was  caught  In  thy  bowl 
And  froze  fast  in  thy  soul ! 

O  thou  Gem  past  compare ! 
Should  men  dare  thee  to  wear? 
No !  Mary  alone, 
On  her  sorrow's  high  throne, 
She  should  wear  thee — apart — 
On,  her  brow — on  her  HEART  ! 


184 


I  opaz 

z  !  Friendly  geiiial  stone! 
From  what  realm  has  radiance  shone 

So  illumined  by  the  Sun? 

Surely,  where  the  bright  sands  run 
Yellow  gold — by  Pactolus— 
Or  the  gemstrewn  shore  of  Indus! 

Glorious  stone  of  Health  and  Joy  ; 
Wealth,  Contentment  glad  Employ; 
Cheerful  Life  and  Happiness; 
Virtues  that  the  Home  shall  bless ! 
Angels  bright  shall  guide  his  way 
Whoso  wears  thy  Star-of-Day ! 

Thou  shalt  shine  within  his  heart — 
Star  of  Genius  !  Star  of  Art ! 
Stone  of  many  colored  rays 
That  the  Magi  wear,  always. 

Beam — like  pard's  eye  in  a  jungle— 
Lest  man's  foot  might  trip  or  bunglet 

Beacon  light,  of  wondrous  glow, 
None,  more  splendid  shall  we  know! 
Throbbing,  like  the  eye  of  Dawn, 
O'er  the  waving  yellow  corn ! 

Kindliest  gem,  by  God's  grace  given, 
Thou  shalt  shine  for  us — in  Heaven! 


Ths  Opal 


and  changing— thou  gem  of  Kmotion! 
•^  Scintillant,  varying,  throbbing  and  rare  ! 
Catching  the  shell  rays  of  angelic  ocean; 
Colors  of  rainbows — from  far  upper  air ! 

What  may  we  call  thee,  thou  marvelous  meteor, 
Dropping  to  Earth  like  some  Spirit  imprisoned? 
Pegasus  pounded?  or  Mercury  fleeter?  or 
Fairy  fantastic— with  moonlight  bedizzened? 

What  are  thy  attributes — dazzling — wonderful? 
Winking  and  blinking  thine  eyes  like  the  owl! 

Surely,  like  stormcloud  with  lightening  and  thunder 

full 
Thou  art  the  Wisdom  and  Voir,e  of  the.  Soul ! 

Thou  art  Love's  fancies — cameleou  capricious  ! 
Thou  art  those  pulses  that  harrow  all  hearts  ! 
Imagination,  divine  and  delicious; 
Thou  art  the  Genius  of  magical  arts! 

Thou  art  the  tapis,  for  Fantasy  woven, 
Loom  webbed  by  Indian,  Persian  and  Moor; 
Fondly  by  houri  and  odalisque  chosen, 
Floating  forever  from  Dream  shore  to  shore ! 

O  to  be  thine,  in  thy  splendours  of  Mystery  ! 
Feeding  forever  the  Genius  of  Mind ! 
Thou  art  the  current  that  underlies  History 
Thou  art  the  Magnet  that  raoveth  Mankind  ! 
It* 


Th?  Emerald 


/^YALM  verdant  stone,  of  "normal"  tone, 
VA  Where  all  are  harmonized  by  One ! 
Where  restful  peace  and  quiet  joy 
And  humble  life  in  sweet  employ, 

Are  pictured  in  thy  modest  green; 

Thou  hast  the  Key  to  Beauty's  sheen ! 

Not  trenchant  "Law"— astride  of  Fate; 

Not  "Passion,"  bleeding  early— late! 

Not  "Joy"  ablaze  with  dazzling  light; 

Not  "Truth"  alone,  in  frozen  white; 

But  wholesome  patient  Virtue's  power 
Redeeming,  blessing,  every  hour! 

With  modest  life  for  every  plant ; 

With  bliss  and  food  for  bee  and  ant; 

With  cheer  for  butterfly  and  bird 

Whose  songs  are  by  the  angels  heard  ! 
With  waving  anthems  in  the  breeze, 
And  twilight  through  thy  minor  keys ! 

Thy  feet  run  by  the  murmuring  Sea, 

O'er  mountains  of  Prosperity  ! 

Thou  lovest  the  life  of  lowing  kine; 

Thy  sap  is  in  the  corn  and  wine; 

And  all  the  pain  our  natures  feel 
Thou  healest  with  thy  chlorophyle  ! 

Spring  calls  thee  from  the  underworld 
When  Life's  young  banner  is  unfurled. 
She  loves  thy  bosom,  warm  and  kind, 
And  woos  thee  in  the  whispering  wind; 
Soft  pillowed  on  thy  Mother-breast 
Man  lays  him  down,  at  last,  to  Rent, ! 


187 


Ths  Day  of  Jewels 


("And  the}-  shall  be  mine,  salth  the  Lord,  in  the 
day  that  I  shall  make  up  my  Jewels."— Bible.) 


v-m-'y  that  Day  that  I  gather  my  jewels 
-**•  From  the  ends  of  the  Earth  and  the  seas, 
In  that  Day  of  Resurgence — Renewals — 
When  I  clasp  them  in  "settings" — to  please; 

They  shall  rise — they  shall  xltine — all  my  heroes 
From  far  and  from  near  shall  they  stream! 
I  shall  part  them— the  Pauls  from  the  Neros ! 
The  wheat  from  the  chaff  I'll  redeem  ! 

Hast  thou  scented,  C)  Earth,  all  my  spices? 
Hast  savored,    O  Soul,  each  sweet  flower? 
Dost  discern  Life's  Real  Truth  from  devices? 
The  essence  of  each  shrub  I  dower? 

The  fragrance  of  almond  from  aloe, 
The  pine  from  the  palm  or  the  date? 
The  incense  of  muskrose  or  mallow 
From  peach  or  pomegranate  or  grape? 

Ah,  who  shall  divine,  but  Tlie  Master 
That  wrought  them,  to  brighten  His  bower? 
In  the  dark  Earth  they've  taken  their  luster, 
And  gathered  their  ichor  and  power! 

In  the  depth  of  affliction  and  sorrow 
They've  burnished  their  Beauty's  renown; 
In  that  Dawn  of  Eternity's  morrow, 
They'll  glisten  at  last,  in  His  Crown! 


18!" 


Stars 

v-y-'  AWAKE  in  the  depth  of  the  night, 

-*-*  And  I  rise  to  my  window,  to  gaze ! 

All  the  zenith  is  shimmered  with  light, 

As  I  stand,  in  enraptured  amaze, 
At  the  Radiance  streaming  in  bars 
Through  that  crysteline  Ether-Those  STARS! 

I  can  see  brave  Orion,  with  blade 
All  bespangled  with  jewels  so  bright 
At  his  belt — with  its  diamonds  inlaid! 
There  is  Hercules  rushing  in  might ! 
Swift  Boetes!  and  Cassiopea 
As  she  sits  in  her  gem  spangled  chair! 

There's  Venus  resplendent  in  gold, 

As  she  sways  in  her  swan  boat  of  down ; 

And  red  Mars,  whom  her  white  arms  enfold! 

There's  Lyra  !    And  there  is  The  Crown  ! 
And,  fair  dance  the  Pleiades,  seven, 
Through  the  scintillant  maze  of  Midheaven! 

There's  Luna — the  fairest  of  all — 
In  her  daintiest  frailest  of  boats, 
Sailing  forth;  and  they  come  at  her  call 
As  through  dreamland  she  flutters  and  floats! 

0  what  is  the  Meaning  of  xkies? 

And  whence  comes  the  Magic  of  eyes? 

Take  from  me  your  wisdom  and  gold, 
Take  from  me  your  robes  and  your  wine; 
But  take  not  the  tale  that  is  told 
By  the  light  of  those  jewels  divine! 

1  can  brave  the  base  world  and  its  scars, 
But  f  miwt  Jtave — I  must  have — my  STARS  ! 


WatcK  Night 

^r"x  the  warm  evening's  pulse, 
-*'•*  In  the  long  after  glow, 
As  the  sun  rolleth  low 
Down  the  slope  of  the  hill 
Where  the  wild  flowers  blow; 

The  sweet  whippoorwill 

With  his  sorrow's  impulse, 
Singethlow— singeth  low— singeth  low— 

Of  the  days  sad  decline ; 
Of  the  fast  falling  years; 
Of  those  soft  falling  tears 
Like  the  dew  of  the  night 
On  the  flower— that  sears; 
Or  the  snow,  falling  white 

When  the  thread  of  Life's  flax  doth  un 
twine; 

And  the  shears  ?— O  the  shears!  Ah  those 
shears ! 

Then  I  gather  my  garlands 
Once  more  to  my  heart, 
Ere  the  petals  shall  part; 
And  my  robe  is  unrolled 
Where  they  quiet  its  smart; 

And  the  night  winds  unfold 

Their  sweet  fragrance — from  woodlands 
So  old!  yes  so  old!  O  so  old  !— 


190 


And  the  Heart  of  the  Earth 
Plainteth  soft  to  my  heart: 
"O  we  lovers  must  part, 
But  our  fragrance  shall  last 
Past  the  pain  and  the  dart ! 

Past  the  pennon — half  mast! — 

And  shall  flame  to  new  Birth  ! 
To  New  Birth !" 

So  the  stars  tremble  bright 

As  I  glance  up  on  high, 

Through  the  branches  so  nigh 

Of  the  dark  shadowed  trees ; 

And  the  bright  firefly 

Like  my  soul — soars  to  seize 
Their  Magic!  their  Music!  their  Light! 
O  fhc.ir  Magic  and  Light' 

February  Thaws 

•f~y>w  the  longer  sunbeam  bends ; 
*-*      Green  oases  pierce  the  snow ; 
Hear  the  cackle  of  the  hens 
And  the  old  red  rooster  crow ! 

Now  the  pullets  croon  and  sing — 

Sure  premonitors  of  Spring ! 

And  they  prune,  and  dream,  and  talk 

Of  the  eggs  that  they  will  lay; 
And  they  pick  their  steps  and  stalk 

Through  the  farmyard,  toward  the  hay ; 
And  the  young  cocks  flirt  and  prance 
Casting  many  a  sidelong  glance. 

191  (over) 


Kvery  green  tipped  bud  and  .branch 

Seems  to  redden  and  to  glow; 
Over  all  the  drowsy  ranch 

Melts  and  drips  the  streaming1  snow. 
And  you  see  the  young  sap,  lush, 
Tingling  through  each  blade  and  bush. 

Ah  shy  lovers — check  thy  heat 

Till  the  Spring  is  nearer  far! 
Wait  till  young  Apollo's  feet 

Mount  with  strength  His  golden  car ! 
NTow  he  only  grooms  his  steeds 

For  their  race  through  flowery  meads. 

He  will  blanket  them  in  ice, 

And  will  feed  them  still,  with  fire  ! 
Hold  their  forces  in  his  vise, 
Till  he  fill  them  with  Desire! 

Then,  when  vanisheth  the  snow, 
He  will  bid  his  coursers— "Go"  ! 

So  I  see  The  Hand  of  Fate 

Hold  Full  Freedom  back — in  chains; 
Till  strong  /eal  with  Wisdom  mate, 
And  Her  Power  by  Prudence  gains. 
'Then  full  armed  with  Victory 
She  shall  make  Her  Grand  Sortie! 


Indian  Summer 

C"  Wine  on  the  k>o— well  refined.") 

/~\  WOOING  Earth!  why  dost  thou  still  enchant 
^-^    Our  weary  frames,  that  with  the  year  is  sad? 
How  is  it  that  our  breasts  with  rapture  pant? 
How  is  it  that  our  hearts  with  hope  grow  glad? 

Why  dost  thou  whisper,  still,  of  Eden's  peace? 

Why  is  it,  true  Love's  longing  cannot  cease? 

Wilt  thou  forever  lure  our  souls  to  dream, 

And  sigh  and  faint  for  bowers  of  bliss  below; 
When  sorrow  warns  that  Joy  doth  only  "seem," 
And  even  Will  lies  prostrate  to  Care's  blow? 
Why  canst  thou  not  thy  victims  lay  to  rest 
Within  the  quiet  surcease  of  Earth's  Breast? 

Hast  thou  some  message  still  for  Lone  to  hear? 
Some  final  Vow  of  Faith  we  yet  must  share? 
Shall  Indian  Summer  ripen  fruit  morn  dear? 

Are  there  bright  flowerets  yet  our  soil  must  bear? 
Is  there  some  sweetness  yet  —exquisite  joy — 
That  waits  the  weary  Womb  of  Life  to  cloy  ? 

Shall  "Sarah,"  yet,  a  nobler  offspring  see? 

And  Abram  clasp  a  Scion  to  his  lip? 
Is  this  the  Wine  of  Life  upon  the  lee? 
Is  there  Divine  Elixir  still  to  sip? 

(fod  grant  Completeness! — through  his  heavenly 

(/race! 
Tli en  I ftf  ux  sleep  in  Peace — within  mtr  Placa! 


Autumn's  Sighing 

Qow  the  hazy  woodland  glows 
With  the  years  rich  full  repose, 
And  the  softly  sighing  breeze 
Strips  the  colors  from  the  trees. 
Now  the  leaves  fly  off  in  flocks 
Like  the  swallows  and  the  rooks! 


Crisp  the  dry  corn  crackles,  now, 

Toppling  forward  in  each  row; 

Every  veteran  in  the  breeze 

Tottering  on  his  aged  knees; 

Breaking  ranks  to  form  in  groups 
Like  some  homeward  staggering  troups! 

See  the  leaders,  lean  and  tall, 

Clasping  hands  in  fear  to  fall ! 

Still  their  yellow  pennons  flying; 

At  their  feet  the  pumpkins  lying, 
Like  some  gory  bombs  of  battle 
Within  which  the  seed  balls  rattle. 

Overhead,  the  sky,  in  tatters 
Streams  and  eddies;  closes,  scatters; 
Opening  rifts  of  heavenly  vision 
Through  each  drift  and  cloud  incision : 

Till  the  mind  is  lost  in  mazes, 

And  the  flux  of  color  dazes! 


See  the  bent  form  of  the  plowman  ! 
Hear  the  milk  call  of  the  cowman  ! 
One  the  winter  wheat  is  sowing; 
For  the  other,  cows  are  lowing ; 

And  the  milk  pails  lightly  tinkle ; 

And  the  few  far  snowflakes  sprinkle ! 

With  them  come  the  snowbirds  calling; 

And  the  ripened  chesnuts  falling; 

And  the  apples  turn  to  cider, 

And  the  landscape  opens  wider 

With  the  leaves  and  fruit  departing 
And  the  loaded  wagons  starting! 

Bright  within  the  savory  kitchen 

Sit  the  children— "fingers  twitchin'  "! 

While  each  hungry  little  belly 

Covets  apple  sauce  and  jelly, 

And  the  fragrant  marmalade 
That  the  cook  and  Ma  have  made! 

Now  the  brush  fire  crackles  gaily, 
And  we  draw  up  closer  daily; 
Till  the  west  wind,  softly  sighing, 
Whispers  low:    "The  year  is  dying"  ! 
>JOW— O/d  Time  no  more  may  reap! 
So  we  drop,  with  Him — asleep! 


Twilight  Psalm 

S~TOME  view  with  me  the  sinking  Earth  retire 
**-*•  Mid  all  those  golden  glories  of  the  skies! 
And  watch  the  dying  Sun — that  globe  of  fire, 
Salute  the  silver  moon  beams  that  arise  ! 

Through  darkly  solemn  branches  they  suspire, 
And  pour  their  paiid  splendor  on  our  eyes ! 

Come  bend  with  me,  at  sylvan  hour  of  prayer, 
While  Nature  watches,  too,  with  lips  apart; 
And  myriad  voices,  murmuring  through  the  air, 
Exhale  the  trembling  Music  of  Her  Heart ! 
When,'blending  songs  of  hope  with  days  despair, 
She  spreads  the  matchless  palette  of  Her  Art. 

O  voices  of  the  sunset  and  the  hills! 

O  spirit  of  the  moonbeams  and  the  sea ! 

O  anthems  of  the  meadows  and  the  rills  ! 

O  vesper  songs  of  forest  and  of  lea ! 

O  Life  of  God — that  every  creature  thrills 
With  powers  of  growing  Progress,  yet  to  be  ! 

Behold  I  would  Thy  vernal  Druid  be, 

And  build  to  Thee  this  "menhir"  of  my  song — 

Graved  deep  with  lines  of  magic  minstrelsy, 

A  barrier  bold  'gainst  Mammon  old  and  Wrong — 

A  "rallying  Rock"  for  them  that  would  be  free! 

A  Talisman  to  hero  hearts  and  strong ! 


A  watch  fire  on  the  worlds  wide  waste  of  life ; 

A  beacon  light  to  summon  on  the  brave  ; 

To  rouse  the  groveling  Earth  to  nobler  strife 

And  melt  the  bonds  of  error  from  the  slave. 
To  fan  the  spirit's  wings — with  genius  rife, 
And  wake  the  silent  Voices  of  the  grave ! 


To  spread  the  sails  of  Beauty's  bark — unfurled; 
And  herald,  still,  with  trumpet  call  of  Hope ! 
Extend  the  light  of  Wisdom  'round  the  world ; 
And  give  to  MIND  a  purer  glance  and  scope ! 

Unsheath  Apollo's  shaft — like  lightening  hurled; 

And  bind  the  Earth  to  Heaven — with  rainbowed 
rope ! 


HIGH  PRIKST   OF  NATURE! — speak   Her  Truth  at 

ease; 

Stand  thou  apart  from  Ravin,  Rage  and  Wreck; 
Suspend  Her  sacred  garlands  to  thy  knees ; 
Entwine  Her  holy  fillets  'round  thy  neck  ! 

"Priest  of  the  Most  High  God  and  Prince  of  Peace! 

Anointed  order  of  Melchizedek !" 


The  White  Rose  and  the  Red 

(Gardens  of  Tai  MnhalTomb,  India.) 

JY^VEATH  the  moon  and  stars,  aglow, 
•*~~*     Magic  towers  of  marble  rise; 
Murmuring  fountains  overflow 

Into  depths  of  mirrored  skies! 
Shah  Jehan  hath  laid,  to  rest, 

Arjamand,  his  Royal  Love: 
The  idol  of  his  kingly  heart, 

The  Orient's  tenderest  dove! 

Odors  waft  through  ghostly  halls, 

Terraced  bowers  and  trellised  court; 
Lotus  bulbs — whence  incense  falls  ; 

Alabaster  walls  inwrought ! 
Gold  and  gem  and  precious  stone 

Sparkle  to  the  midnight  stars; 
Where  minaret  and  melting  dome 

Rise  through  the  moonlight  bars ! 

Not  a  voice  disturbs  the  dead ; 

Not  a  step  stirs  Eden's  peace; 
Here  the  camels  halt  their  tread; 

At  this  Gate  all  murmurs  cease ! 
Soft,  alone,  at  midnight  hour, 

Hark  !  the  bulbul's  Love  Song  floats 
To  the  throbbing  Passion  Flower ! 

And  the  sobbing  River  notes! 


Pearly  dome — like  Heaven's  above  ! 

Jasper  floors — like  Paradise ! 
Symbols  of  Immortal  Love — 

Like  the  fountain's  weeping  eyes! 
Hark  ! — I  hear  her  Spirit  sing 

In  that  Song  of  Nightingale! 
The  fanning  of  her  seraph  wing 

Glints  through  the  moonlight  pale ! 

Oh !  my  heart — not  eye — must  scan 

This  true  lover's  sepulchrel 
Graven  texts  of  Alcoran, 

Opal,  onyx,  alo^.  fir ! 
Lo!  I  guess,  through  Night's  glamour, 

That  wan  White  Rose  from  The  Red  ! 
The  White's  the  one  that  went  before 

The  Red's  the  lover— dead! 


SOUL  of  all  this  Life  of  ours! 

Harbinger  of  Life  Divine ! 
Up  through  jewels,  spice  and  flowers, 

Chanting  bird  and  clambering  vine; 
Up  through  river,  mountain,  moor, 

Unto  cloud,  and  star,  and  moon, 
Love  is — man's  divlnest  dower  ! 

Faith's — God's  brightest  Boon  ! 


199 


"Ins  Highest  Call 


OFT  times  we  sigh  and  say  :  "My  home  is  mine— 
I  must  create  the  offspring  of  my  frame  ; 
I  must  preserve  the  honor  of  my  name; 
For  lo  !  some  day,  some  one  of  these  may  shine.  /" 

But  then  we  hear  a  Voice,  within  the  Soul, 
A  spirit  cry  :  "O  man  !  all  flesh  is  grass  ! 

And  like  the  stuble  dry,  hath  bloomed  to  pass  ! 
Time  turns  it  down  —  like  an  inverted  bowl  !" 

"Nay  then"  —  a  Voice  of  Larger  Life  exclaims: 
"Thou  child  of  flesh  —  Eternity  is  long  ! 
Immortal  Life  a  waifs  Immortal  Song! 

Immortal  Thought  Immortal  Deed  acclaims! 

And  so  today,  tho'  old  in  fading  flesh, 

And  withering  locks  slow  whiten  on  thy  brow, 
Take  Heart  !  the  Holiest  Hours  of  Life  are  Now 

And  Loftiest  Voices  wake  thy  harp  afresh! 


Experience  and  Culture 


is  the  rugged  path, 

Bestrewn  with  rocks  and  thorns  of  wrath, 
By  which  Great   Nature,  strong  and  stern, 
Compells  our  Ignorance  to  learn 

What  griefs  attend—  what  woes  befall 
The  child  who  will  not  heed  Her  call. 

But  Culture  is  Her  Kinder  Voice, 
By  which  she  bids  our  steps  rejoice, 
Whene'er  we  walk  in  Wisdom's  way, 
Nor  from  Her  paths  of  Duty  stray. 

For  Culture  is  the  garnered  Sense 

Of  all  Life"s  long  Experience  —  ! 

Poor  child  of  man  !  this  watchword  know  ; 

Nor  shun  its  light—  its  afterglow  — 

As  sadly  o'er  thy  path  of  pain, 

Each  step  of  Progress  thou  shalt  gain. 

Believe  and  hope  and  truM  thy  God! 

Stipe  ft  Fruit  grows  on  Hist  bloxfoming  Rod! 


Th?  Road  to  the  Evening  Star 

OVER  the  dreary  plains  of  Life, 
And  weary  fields  of  Art, 
I  wandered  long,  through  the  senseless  strife 

That  fills  the  greedy  mart; 
To  find,  at  length,  my  ONE  TRUE  LIGHT 

To  guide  my  steps,  afar; 
And  shine,  at  night,  a  beacon  bright, 
A  Path  to  The  Evening  Star. 

I  found  it  not  in  Learning's  lore, 

Nor  yet  in  travelled  lands; 
Nor  where  the  world's  ambitions  soar 

Through  work  of  skillful  hands ; 
I  found  it  not  in  pomp  nor  power ; 

Nor  yet  in  wealth  or  fame; 
But  in  my  VISION — at  evening  hour — 

When  to  myself,  I  came! 

There,  in  my  Own  Heart's  solemn  depths, 

When  Twilight  whispered  low, 
My  silent  tryste  with  Nature  kept, 

In  Autumn's  golden  glow  ! 
When  harvest  moon  was  trembling  late 

O'er  woodlands  stretching  far, 
I  found  my  "Gate"  with  its  Keys  to  Fate 

And  my  "Road  to  The  Evening  Starr 


Ths  Singer 

JTCHK  Singer  sings — and  passes  on  his  way  ; 

^•^  He  takes  no  note  of  Time — by  night  nor  day — 

He  has  "His  QUEST" — to  sing  his  Rondelay  ! 

Across  the  void  his  magic  arrows  fly; 

They  glance  on  mount  and  moor;  they  pierce  the  sky ; 

Fall  on  the  cottage  floor  and  by  the  fountain  lie! 

His  quiver  trembles  full !  his  bow  is  strung! 
He  presses  onward  yet — his  Heart  is  Young  I 
He  still  must  sing  his  Songl  he  hath  no  other  tongue ! 

Forgive  him  then,  if  yet  his  faltering  voice 
Falls  on  thy  ear — he  hath  no  other  choice! 
He  hails  the  Christmas  Morn,  and  bids  the   Earth 
"Rejoice!" 

"The  Earth"?— ah  yes !  that  laggard  dull  of  ear ! 
That  greets  all  Sibyl  leaves  with  flout  and  jeer  ! 
Sneer  on  \  Yet  still  the  Christ- truths  Reappear*. 

Au  Revoir 

a  LITTLE  Love ! — a  little  Light ! 
Then  onward  through  the  starry  Night! 
To  silver  Moon ! — to  golden  Sun! 
When  Man's  brief  Earth-born  Race  is  run  ! 
But  evermore  ! — -forever  dear  \ 
h  LOVE — and  those  who  loved  M*  h?rf\ 


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